


Shield Me

by Wordlesswriter



Series: The Soldier and The Spark [1]
Category: Marvel, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Avengers Family, BAMF Stiles, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt, Love, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Protective Avengers, Uncle Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 56,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordlesswriter/pseuds/Wordlesswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheriff Stilinski sent his son to New York to spend his spring with his uncle Phil. Stiles thought he might get that peaceful break from supernatural mayhem that seemed to follow him like a shadow and spend his time exploring his mothers childhood neighborhood. </p><p>The thing was, they forgot New York was home to the world's mightiest heroes. And nothing is peaceful where ever they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Heal a Battered Soul and Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Impact](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820119) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> So this is immediately post season 2. And one year after Chitauri invasion.  
> Please vote for STEREK. it would make me happy. Voting is unlimited. So pls pls pla
> 
> http://www.thebacklot.com/2014-slash-madness-round-three/08/2014/3/

After the Gerard incident, Stiles’ father decided to send him to his uncle living in New York to stay for the spring break. Stiles who had not seen his uncle for 2 years readily agreed. His dad asked his uncle if Stiles can stay throughout the spring break in his place and his uncle readily accepted. Stiles packed and left within the same day. He did not tell Scott nor the Hale pack or anybody else in Beacon Hills. He did not feel his absence would be significant to them. Nobody even noticed he was missing after the lacrosse match except his father. That was more than enough reminder to him that he was not part of any pack, that he did not belong to the supernatural community.

The ride was uneventful. He slept through most of it. His body still needed the rest for recuperation from his injuries.

“Stiles!” He heard someone called him. He turned around and found his uncle in a very cool suit. He jogged over to his uncle uncaring of the pain on his limping leg. He embraced his uncle and felt his arms embraced him too.

“Hey, Uncle Phil.” Stiles greeted, a little emotionally high pitched.

Stiles clung a little bit longer, basking in the feel of safety and love from his mother's only brother. He hadn’t felt this comfortable and safe ever since Scott was bitten.

Stiles pulled back but his uncle left an arm around his shoulders. Phil's eyes wandered on his face. Stiles knew he was examining his visible injuries and trying to puzzle out what had happened to him through it.

“Let's go home. We'll catch up along the way.” Phil said and stirred him to his car. Stiles sighed in relief that his uncle didn't question his injuries, yet.

"Lola! You're still alive!" Stiles exclaimed as he hopped in the vintage car his uncle treasured so much. The man has sentimental issues as big as Stiles. Roscoe, his jeep, used to belong to his mother and no matter how much breaking down problem he presented, Stiles will not let him go.

"You should know Lola is tougher than that." Phil said and he pulled out of the parking lot.

“I know. But after the Chitauri Invasion, I thought she wouldn't survive that kind of clusterfuck-“

"Language-" Phil quiped.

"I mean disaster. Yap, disaster." Stiles smiled that I'm-cute-you-can't-preach smile. Phil rolled his eyes but he fondly smiled at him.

"But seriously, how'd you survived the invasion? We were so worried. We can't contact you for weeks. We thought-" Stiles caught his breath. Phil reached out to touch his shoulders.

"Stiles, breathe. I'm here. I'm well and alive." Phil stated, calmly.

Stiles ruggedly exhaled. "Thank God, you are."

Their conversation dissolved to mundane things. Stiles was silently thankful his uncle ignored his injuries in the meantime. He knew Phil was very perceptive. Over perceptive for a manager. Add in his protective streak, Phil was barely restraining his urges to question his nephew of his current state.

Phil's house was very neat and clean. It was full of memories from their ancestors. As Stiles walked through the fireplace, he saw a portrait of his seventh birthday. It was the last time they were complete. Stiles on the centre smiling, white frosting streak his youthful face. His uncle Phil and his dad were on either side of him. While his mother was kneeling beside him, an arm around his waist while the other held up his birthday cake.

He must be staring for quite some time because he was startled when a hand touched his shoulder. He looked behind him. Phil smiled that bittersweet smile of someone remembering wonderful memories of the past. It was the last birthday he shared with his mom.

“Good thing we were able to take this before you blew up the cake. I still can't figure out how the two of you managed to do that.” Phil said softly.

“That's between me and mom. I promised not to tell.” Stiles grinned.

“Unpack and change your clothes. I've already cooked before I picked you up.”

Stiles nodded and went to his room. He halted after a couple of steps and turned back to his uncle.

“Phil.” Stiles called.

“Yes, kiddo?”

Stiles fidgeted, feet nervously shifting side to side.

“Thanks, for letting me stay here. I know you're busy and all.”

Phil smiled softly. “You know you are always welcome to stay here.”

Stiles run back to him and gave him a quick hug before bolting to his room.

Phil gazed back to the picture, thinking of the many similarities her sister and her son shared. “Claudia, what's with you two and trouble?” He asked fondly. Phil sighed and headed to the kitchen to set dinner.


	2. Antique Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes shopping, in an antique shop, which is really a magic shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I've decided, this story will not actively feature Sterek. And I didn't edit this so all wrongs are mine, obviously unbetad. I'll be updating later again. Two in a row. Hahaha

When Phil left for his 'work', Stiles decided to get out and explore the city, get his sense of the direction familiarized with the busy system again. He contemplated whether to follow Phil to his 'work' but decided against it. Stiles suspected for a long time that being a manager in a hotel wasn't really his job. _Why would his job require a pistol?_

Stiles bit his lips praying for Phil's safety as he recalls the little incident earlier. Phil was sipping his cup of coffee when he came into the kitchen. As a kid of a Sherriff, he instantly spotted the gun tucked on Phil’s belt holster. Phil tried to casually shrug his coat and hid the gun from Stiles' sight. However, Stiles already saw it but he turned a blind eye on it. Whatever Phil was working on, Stiles knew it was a dangerous profession if Phil kept his remaining family in the dark. It was a lot bigger than finding half-torn bodies in the woods, if the eagle symbol was anything to go by. Stiles just wished him safety.

Stiles rounded another corner and checked his map on his phone. Just a few more blocks. The magic shop was disguised as an antique shop. _Cliché_. But quite practical. When Stiles passed by the property line, he felt his hair stood up, like before a lightning strikes. He guessed it was the wards flaring up due to his presence and alarming the owner. Neat! He wanted to get one of those so he would not be surprised when any of the wolves tried to break into his room again. He noticed the same feeling when he walked through the door.

The antique shop was full of ... well antiques. Stiles didn't really know what he would find inside. He just braced himself for anything out of norm and the normalcy of the place made him think Deaton was just humoring his call last night.

“Good morning.” He heard someone greeted when he was about to touch a very cool looking terracotta armor. Stiles immediately pulled his hand away and stood straight, or tried to stand straight. The voice came from a man behind the counter.

“Good morning, too… Sir. I wasn’t trying to touch it. I swear.” Stiles said, hurriedly.

The man just raised his eyebrows, a small loop sided smile playing on his lips as he shot Stiles a look that said he totally didn't believe him.

Stiles walked over to him, sizing him up for whatever type of supernatural creature he was. He seemed somewhat normal, which was never really the case until someone had to die. Although he knew he was not entirely human, Stiles felt the man wasn’t a danger to him as of the moment.

"Doctor Deaton said he knew you and he told me this is the place I can get magical thingies." Stiles said.

"Ah. You must be Stiles Stilinski, then. I'm Harry Dresden by the way." The man offered his hand with a bright smile. Stiles cautiously took his hand. He still didn't know what kind of supernatural creature he was dealing with. He might be a demon, if demons also exist. If werewolves, druids and kanimas do exist, what doesn’t? When their hands touched, Stiles felt the magic serenely flowing inside the man, non-maleficent and welcoming. Stiles decided the man was good for now.

"Nice to meet you, Harry." Stiles said.

"I got everything you needed at the back. Follow me." Harry said. He led Stiles to the back of the shop. Stiles prayed he was a good judge of character and got out of the antique shop alive. "You can ask me any questions. I bet you are sick and tired of your Deaton's cryptic answers so I'll try to answer as truthful as I can."

"Are you sure? Coz most people don't want me start talking. In fact, they strictly avoid giving me chances to start any kind of conversation. Just saying." Stiles said as he watched Harry gathered his orders. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

"Of course you can. The moment I saw you try to touch the armor, _don't_ bother denying that-" Stiles clammed close his mouth because he totally wanted to touch that awesome armor. "-I know you and I are the same. That we are far too curious for our own good. So ask away."

"Ohh okay. So what are you?" Stiles asked.

"I'm a warlock." Harry said proudly. "You?"

"Can't you tell?" Stiles asked.

Harry shook his head. "I'm a warlock not a Druid. All I can tell is you have magic. Lots of it." He stopped and looked at him, trying to puzzle him out but he could not. "Did Deaton tell you what you are?"

"Deaton called me a 'Spark'." Harry's eyes widened and he gasped. "Wh-what's wrong? Is it bad? Am I going to turn evil?" Stiles asked, panicky. He could not go ‘ _Bad_ ’, not the dark side of the supernatural force. He did not want to hurt anyone unlike some psychopathic uncle or crazy grandfather he knew.

"No no. Not necessarily. I mean everyone has an inclination _to be_ bad. It's our choice which path to take. It's just that Sparks are really rare, like one in thousands of years. You don't get to meet one every day."

"Deaton didn't tell me that. Can you tell me more about it?" Stiles asked, curious now.

"I don't really know much but here’s what I got. Sparks are one of the most powerful beings in this world. They can control everything. Fire, Water, Earth, Everything. Their magic is the greatest. It's unlimited. What is impossible for us is possible for you."

"That doesn't sound like me. All that I can do is make a circle out of mountain ash. Apart from that, I am boringly normal."

"Then, maybe you should stop believing you're normal. Do you know what the foundation of magic is?"

"Belief." Stiles said, automatically.

"Exactly. If you don't believe it, it won't happen. When it comes to magic, illogical becomes logical, impossible becomes possible. Imagination is greater than knowledge. Do you get me?"

"I think I do, to some extent." Stiles said, remembering how he completed the circle of mountain ash when he barely had enough left.

"So this is everything Deaton told me you want. Anything to add?" Harry asked, looking at the items one last time.

Stiles pulled out his list from his pants and checked it off. Everything was there.

"Seems like everything is here. How much?" Stiles asked, pulling out his wallet.

"100 is enough." Harry said. Stiles paid him and Harry packed the items, leaving the stick of mountain ash out of the paper bag because it was too long. Stiles stacked the paper bag into his empty backpack.

Harry walked him to the front door. "One more thing, you should remember this. Spell and runes and magic itself is nothing without belief. Believe it, and it will happen."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Harry." Stiles said.

"You're welcome. Don't be a stranger. Visit me when you can, okay?"

"I will!" Stiles agreed. Harry waved him good-bye and Stiles waved back before he turned away to walk back home.


	3. Lost Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles find an unexpected visitor waiting on his front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff alert. Lol, still unbetad though

When Stiles rounded on their street, he saw a huddled figure on the front stairs. He wondered if Phil was expecting someone and forgot about it. The closer he got, the better he recognized the figure and he did know whom it was. He just didn’t expect it of all the people. He didn’t even believe it was who he thought it was until he was standing in front of him.

"Jackson?" He asked the young man sitting awkwardly on the doorstep. Jackson whipped his head to look up at Stiles. He seemed surprised to find him there standing in front of him, which is kind of worrying since he was a werewolf. Cause, he did have super hearing and all that werewolf jazz.

"Stiles?" Jackson whispered, as if saying his name would spook him away or make him disappear. Jackson looked lost.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked cautiously. He remembered the numbness and the paralysis that washed over him after the kanima attacked him and he couldn’t stop the shudder that raked his body from the mere memory of it.

Jackson’s eye hardened and his face slipped behind that douche bag mask he always wore. “This is a mistake.” Jackson said and he picked up his bag. “Coming here is a mistake.” Jackson stood up and left.

Stiles instantly felt guilty. Jackson and he were like water and oil, two completely different things that could never mix. They never had any good interaction in their history. But right now, Jackson came to his place and waited for him without knowing when he would get back. Stiles didn’t even know how Jackson knew where to find him. But the fact still remained; his archenemy had sought for him and found him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out something grave must be wrong with the blonde boy.

Dumping all his hesitant thoughts, Stiles grabbed Jackson’s arms as Jackson passed by. “Jackson, wait.” Jackson growled at him, his eyes flashing brilliant electric blue. But Stiles held on fast. He was afraid but he wouldn’t cower in fear anymore. Jackson needed him and he was going to help him in any way he could, even if Jackson pretends he didn’t need it. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

“Like I said, this is a mistake.” Jackson said with resignation and he shook off his arm. But Stiles wouldn’t let him go. With a little werewolf boost, Jackson successfully yanked his arm off Stiles.

But then, what happen next was not expected. Stiles caught his arm again and pulled him into a hug. Jackson was stiff in his arms. He was caught off guard and didn’t know what to do. He barely registered when Stiles started speaking.

“I don’t know what had happen to Beacon Hills in the small time that I’m gone. I don’t know why you left or why you are here. And for some reason, you looked for me and found me. So don’t just fucking leave without asking if you can stay.” Stiles hugged him tighter as Jackson slowly melted in his embrace. “It’s been a rough year for everyone and it’s been rougher for you. I’m not that heartless to turn you away. You can stay here with me. You don’t have to ask.”

He heard Jackson whimpered and begun to shake. Stiles started to worry. _Is Jackson crying?_

“Are you crying?” Stiles asked, his mouth running off before his brain filter caught on. Stiles winced at stupidity of his own question.

“No, you idiot! I’m laughing!” Jackson said, his voice clearly broken.

Stiles did what his mother would do whenever he cried. He freed one hand and guided Jackson’s head until he could feel the other boy crying at the nook of his neck while his other hand continued to rub soothing circle on his back. Jackson pulled him closer, his fingers digging into his back. He let Jackson cried his heart out. He didn’t mind if it felt sticky or awkward. A whole lot of awkward. Jackson clearly needed to get this out.

Maybe, this was how his mother felt every time he came running into her arms, waiting powerless for him to calm down or pass out from crying so hard. There was nothing he really could do to stop Jackson from hurting except to just be there and hold him. Stiles wished he can do something more.

After what seemed like one of the longest moments in his life, Jackson finally calmed down and pulled back, sniffing and wiping his tears with the back of his hands. Stiles grabbed Jackson’s shoulders and gave it a little squeeze.

“You look like shit!” Stiles said, trying to cheer him up.

Jackson snorted then chuckled, "No shit, Batman. You're just as shitty as me."

"Oh I think it gives me a rugged look." Stiles grinned at Jackson, who just rolled his eyes. "Come on let’s get inside. I think we gave New York its daily dose of drama."

Jackson nodded. Stiles picked up his mountain ash stick that he had let go when he hugged Jackson. "What's that?" Jackson glaring at the piece of wood.

"It's a mountain ash stick." Stiles said fishing out his key from his pocket. He opened the door and they got inside.

"What for?" Jackson asked, curious.

"I'm making it my weapon. It has magical properties against supernaturals." Stiles said. Jackson immediately moved back, afraid that it might bite him or something more painful. Stiles chuckled as Jackson eyed it warily. "Don't worry I won't use it against you." Still, Jackson gave it the stink eyes. "I'm starved. I'll get some food. Do you want anything?"

"I-I'm fine." Jackson said, looking sideways.

Stiles huffed. He knew from experience that werewolves were always hungry. Stiles went to the kitchen and took out the left over macaroni from last night. He took out two soda from the fridge.

When he got back, Jackson was still standing where Stiles left him which made him frown. Jackson usually treated every place like he owned it. This recent behavior didn't sit well with him. "You can sit down you know." Stiles quipped, lightheartedly. Stiles took his seat and Jackson sat beside him. "Come on. Let’s eat."

"I'm not hungry." Jackson said, although his eyes curiously flicked on the bowl of macaroni.

Stiles took one of the spoons and put it on Jackson's hand. "Eat. Werewolves are always hungry. I know. Scott always raids my kitchen ever since he got bitten."

Jackson stared at him, eyes wide. Stiles lifted the bowl and offered it to Jackson. One thing Jackson knew about Stiles was the guy was very persistent and determined, for example his long time unrequited love for Lydia. Jackson sighed and just gave in. Plus, he really was hungry. He scooped and ate a mouthful.

"Wow this is good." Jackson said, with a mouthful.                                                                                           

"I know. My uncle made this for me." Stiles grinned. Stiles turned on the T.V. and they shared the bowl together. Sometime after, Jackson had slid closer to Stiles until they balanced the bowl between their legs. A bowl of macaroni and two cans of soda after, Jackson yawned big and wide and settled back to somewhere comfortable on Stile's side. Stiles wondered when was the last time Jackson slept. Scott had never yawned after he was bitten.

Later, Stiles found Jackson leaning on his shoulder and sleeping soundly. He looked so innocent and kind, without guilt and sadness. The mask of douchebaggary and assholeness slipped off his face. _Is this how Derek feels when one of his betas fall asleep? Warm and content?_ It made Stiles want to snuggle and sleep as well. _Is this how it feels... to have a pack?_ Stiles smiled at that thought.

Stiles figured, werewolf or not, Jackson's position was very uncomfortable. So Stiles lowered him until his head was on his lap and his body stretched out on the sofa. Jackson woke up a little but as soon as his head touched Stiles’ lap, he settled back to sleeping. Stiles threaded his finger through Jackson's hair. Here he was taking care of his archenemy. _Ex-archenemy_ , he corrected himself. He chuckled to himself. _How is this my life?_


	4. Blame the Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles practiced magic. Jackson reacted badly to it. Phil wondered if they were really just friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up my mind. this will not be a Sterek fic. 
> 
> There is a Stackson bromance moment here.

Stiles grew bored of the tv after Oogie and the Cockroach ended. Stiles reached for his bag, careful not to wake up the sleeping werewolf and took his magic book. Stiles skimmed over the book and suddenly a thin pocket book fell out. Stiles picked it up. It was a book about Sparks. Harry must have slipped it in when the older man found out his supernatural species. A small smile tugged at his lips. What a thoughtful man. Stiles noted in his mind to visit Harry in the near future and give him his special brownies which he learned from his mom.

Stiles decided to read the pocket book first to know what he was and the pros and cons of being a Spark.

According to the book, the last known Spark was Gaia, the Earth goddess who was under eternal slumber as her self-imposed punishment for the chaos she and her children caused. As he flipped through the book, an idea formed clearer. A Spark's magic was directly tied to the Spark's belief. The more he believed it, the stronger his magic was. As long as he believed it _might_ happen, it _would_ happen. The spells, the incantation or the glyphs, he didn't really need those. It would only serve as a focus, a tangible point to the impossible. He laughed when he read the final words written on the back cover.

_Believe it, and it will happen._

Stiles now knew where Harry got that tip. After reading the pocket book, he placed it on the last page of his magic book.

Stiles then started reading about wards. He soon learned the different kinds of wards and how to make them. But what got his attention was a ward so powerful it actually hid anything inside it from reality. It was like it never existed. There were only a few kinds of supernatural beings capable to see it, much less break it. Stiles grinned, excited to try it out.

Stiles lifted Jackson's head and slipped a cushion under his head. The werewolf grumbled in his sleep. He gently ruffled the werewolf’s hair before preparing for the ward.

Stiles rummaged his backpack for the jar of powdered mountain ash and took a hand full of it. Stiles clenched his fist tighter, instilling his belief into the powder. He chanted inside his mind. _Protect and conceal. Protect and conceal. Protect and conceal._ Stiles felt that warmth pooling on his hands and the powder warmed as well. _It must be my magic,_ Stiles mused. He stretched his arms forward and opened his hands. The powder loosened, falling through his fingers. Stiles watched in fascination as the powder hit the floor and moved on its own, tracing an imaginary circumference until it came full circle. The circle flared sky-blue and a dome made of bluish light enclosed him in a flash before it disappeared the next second. He looked around but everything seemed the same except for the feeling of something around him and the stillness of the air.

"Stiles?" Jackson called out, blinking bleary eyes from sleep. Stiles attention was drawn by the werewolf’s call. The traces of sleep blinked instantly away when he realized he couldn't hear Stiles’ heartbeat. Jackson halted and focused for a second listening to the sounds around him, trying to locate where the erratic heartbeat of the younger teen was. It wasn’t there. Even his smell was gone, only lingering traces remained. "Stiles?" Jackson called out again.

"Jackson, I'm here." Stiles said loudly.

But then Jackson looked around, searching. He even sniffed the air. Still, nobody answered him. Jackson shot up, fully alert for anything dangerous. "Stiles! Stiles where are you?"

Stiles was confused. He was in front of Jackson but the werewolf couldn't seem to see nor hear him. Then, Jackson wolfs out, brilliant blue eyes glowing worried and fearful. "STILES!" He growled, desperately.

Stiles was assaulted and overwhelmed by feelings of fear, concern and rejection that was clearly not his. Jackson run to the kitchen passing by him and desperately calling out his name again.

Realization hit him like a brick stone. It was because of his ward. Stiles swiftly knelt down and swiped off the powder, breaking the circle.

Jackson immediately rushed to him, patting him from head to toe. His hands came back to Stiles’ head, cupping his face. "Stiles, are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Stiles said, calmly to calm down the agitated werewolf. Jackson hugged him. Stiles could hear him breathing deeply and breathing in his scent. Stiles patted his back. "I'm fine, buddy. I was just practicing my magic."

Jackson pulled back. He was almost back to normal except for the glowing blue eyes.

"Don't ever do that to me again." Jackson growled, angrily. "I couldn't hear your heartbeat all of a sudden. I thought you died, you idiot."

Stiles felt warm and was touched in the inside at Jackson’s concern. "Why Jackson Whittemore I never pegged you for the caring type."

"Of course I care. You're my pack!" Jackson shouted. Both of them froze. Jackson even blushed at his outrage, blushing deeper at his words.

Because Stiles was Stiles, he took it all in a stride. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have than that to my pack." Stiles conceded, smiling shyly.

"God damn you shouldn't." Jackson huffed and sat beside him. "You're a shitty packmate."

Stiles gasped. "Let me remind you that this shitty packmate let you snot on my neck and drool on his pants."

"I do not drool!" Jackson snapped, affronted.

"Then care to explain this." Stiles showed his lap with wet area.

Jackson wanted to defend but clearly, _res ipsa lo quitor_ (the thing speaks for itself). "Shut up, Stiles!"

Stiles cackled and Jackson glared at him but there was no real heat. And if he was shoulder-shoved, it was good natured.

"Hey, hey." Jackson looked at him. "How did you find me anyway?"

Jackson shifted to seat beside Stiles on the floor. He looked up and sighed.

"When I left beacon hills, I didn't really plan on looking for you. But then, when I arrived at the airport, I smelled your scent and I just… I followed it."

"Why? Why did you follow my scent? We were kind of not cool with each other."

"I don't know. I just had this urge to follow it. There’s just this very strong and familiar smell in the air." Jackson smiled at the word.

"What? I’m a stink bomb?" Stiles raised his eyebrows, slightly affronted.

"Not like that, you idiot. I don't know how to describe it. I'm new to these stuffs. All I know is I felt safe and content when I smelled it. I just have to follow it."

Stiles tried not to smile, he just couldn't. Somehow he found the right word for that smell so he said it. "I smell like pack."

Jackson and Stiles shared goofy smiles at that, a little embarrassed and a bit awkward. But hey, they could totally work this out. Stiles had some ideas how they became pack. But he was too content to be thinking of such complicated matters, so he filed it at the back of his mind and noted to take a closer look at it later.

Stiles suggested video games and food and they spent their entire afternoon playing and eating junk food. _Who knows Jackson has real gaming skills?_

It was much later that they realize how much time has passed when they heard the door closed. Jackson instantly halted and fell quiet and stiff.

Phil paused when he saw the new guy then pinned Stiles a stern look, saying 'Talk. Now.' Stiles stood up, Jackson followed his lead.

"Uncle, this is Jackson Whittemore. A friend of mine from Beacon Hills. Jax, My Uncle Phil Coulson." Stiles gushed hurriedly.

Phil offered his hand and Jackson looked questioningly at Stiles before he shook Phil’s hand. "Nice to meet you, Jackson."

"Uhm, Uncle. It's just that Jackson is staying here for the rest of the break and he's all alone. I wonder if he could like stay with us." Stiles said, scratching the back of his head. Phil raised his brows, interested. "He doesn't have to use the other room. He could totally bunk in with me. I mean my bed is really big. I can take care of his food too. My allowance can cover him-" Stiles looked at Jackson and his body and he remembered his supernatural inclination. Werewolf appetite. "-I think." Stiles grinned at the confused look on Jackson. Jackson might not have noticed how big his appetite is going to be.

Phil on the other hand had his eyebrows shot higher as Stiles word vomited.

"Please, Uncle Phil." Stiles gave him those pleading doe-eyed look that was so similar with his sister when she wanted his help. It almost hurt seeing them again. How can he say no to them? “Just for this week.”

"Stiles, your friend can stay here." Phil conceded and he was tackled into a hug by his nephew.

"Thanks, Uncle Phil. You're the best." Stiles exclaimed. Behind Stiles, Jackson was beaming with gratitude, like he was on the verge of crying. Phil wondered... Stiles pulled off and Phil watched Stiles walked back to Jackson, almost skipping merrily. "I told you he's the best." Phil heard him say. Jackson looked at Phil and he smiled. "Yeah, he is." Jackson agreed.

"Come on. Let's get you settled." Stiles said, picking up the bag on the chair. He slung his arm on Jackson’s shoulder and stirred him to the direction the staircase. Jackson hesitantly wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist and pressed closer to the babbling teen.

Phil wondered if Jackson was only just a friend...


	5. Again, Blame It On The Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles magic does something to him and Jackson but he doesn't know what. And he may get away from crazy, but crazy just finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes his appearance

New York, the city that never sleeps, was perfect for the insomniac Stiles Stilinski. The busy streets were filled with so many things and his ADHD mind did not even know which to focus on first. Simply stated, he liked New York. There was just so much to see.

The day after Jackson arrived they decided to explore the city. Phil just had raised an eyebrow when Stiles had told him their plan for the day. Stiles suspected that Phil was reading a little too much on their relationship but his uncle, thank heaven, did not voice it out and waved them off. That would have been plenty of awkward.

Jackson insisted that they go shopping because even if they were pack, it physically pained him to watch the eye sore that was Stiles' clothing. Stiles completely disagreed and stomped stubbornly against flipping out his style. A smirk was the only warning Stiles received before Jackson hefted him on his shoulder and carried his surprised ass into a nearby store earning surprised and curious glances from the people inside.

“You already planned this, didn’t you? You were just waiting until we came near this store.” Stiles accused. Jackson snorted at his theory. They entered the store and Jackson put him down with a gentleness Stiles was not used to. Before they became pack, Jackson liked to bodily harm Stiles in any way possible. This change was new, but not unwelcome.

Jackson pointed a finger on Stiles who tried to get past Jackson. “You are going to stay here while I find something not atrocious for you.”

“My clothes are great, I don’t need new ones.” Stiles protested. Jackson eyed him, not impressed. “Fine, have it your way.” Stiles dropped and slumped on a chair acting like a petulant 4 year old child. Jackson laughed at his expense. Stiles stuck his tongue at him.

Jackson walked off and searched for his clothes. Stiles took out his phone. He got a message from his Dad telling him to stay safe and not bother his uncle too much. Another from Erica thanking him for what he did for her and Boyd five days ago. He sent a quick ‘you’re welcome’ replay. Those were the only texts he received. He didn’t know if he should feel disappointed that no one else contacted him. He left quietly, only his dad knew. But Scott should have checked in on him. _Hasn’t anyone realized I left the town?_ He thought after everything that had happened they would band together and somehow includes him in their group. Guess he was wrong. Again. He sighed forlornly. 

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” Jackson asked, pulling Stiles out of his reverie. He was frowning and eyeing him worriedly. Jackson placed the clothes he picked on the table and sat beside Stiles, hesitantly touching his shoulders. “You suddenly stink of sadness.”

Stiles thought of lying to Jackson but his heart clenched at even thinking of deceiving him. _Is this part of being packmates?_ Stiles asked himself. So he rode with his feeling and came out clean. “It’s just…. nobody realized I’m gone. Even Scott, _my bestfriend_ , didn’t bother to check in on me. I thought after everything we’ve been through, you know… everyone will be looking out for each other. I guess I’m wrong...” Stiles trailed off and sighed, heavily.

Stiles gave Jackson a tight-lipped smile and looked down on his shoes. Jackson bit hard on his lower lip upon seeing Stiles wrecked and hopeless. Jackson was not used to do emotions. That was Danny's job, not his. He didn’t know how to comfort Stiles. So Jackson slid his arm across Stiles shoulder and pulled him closer to him. Stiles looked at him, shocked at what he did. “I don’t know what to say. But, starting now, you can count on me to be there when you need me because we are pack.”

Stiles grabbed Jackson’s hand on his shoulders and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Me too, Jax. You can count on me.” Stiles felt his hands warms and his hair stood on its roots before they were zapped with electricity. He instantly let go of their hands and they pulled away from each other.

“What was that?” Jackson asked, shaking his hand.

Stiles shook his head as he looked at his hand, perplexed with what had happened. He knew it was his magic acting up for some reason that he didn't know. “My magic… But I don’t know what it did. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“Zapped, but everything seems okay.” Jackson said, confused.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles said softly.

“That’s okay. At least now, I won’t feel bad forcing you into trying all this.” Jackson said and shoved a set of clothes into his face. Stiles glared at him. Jackson obnoxiously smirked at him.

“If my cheap skin gets an allergic reaction to this expensive clothes, I’m so blaming you.” Stiles hissed before getting up to get try it on.

 

***

 

Stiles moaned in relief when he finally took a seat. It had taken them more than 3 hours to satisfy Jackson’s fastidious fashion sense. But Stiles had admit Jackson really have a good taste. But he wouldn’t tell him that. No need to feed his already bloated ego.

“I’ll get us some drinks. What do you want?” Jackson asked chirpily, not fazed by their shopping. Damn that werewolf stamina. Stiles glared at him.

“Chocolate smoothie sounds good now.” Stiles said, exhausted. Jackson nodded before he runs off to buy their food.

Stiles was so tired he didn’t notice the mass commotion until the first explosion. Stiles jerked up and looked to where it came from. A car was on fire. And there were… ROBOTS! Evil car throwing robots spreading havoc right in front of him. _Just my luck_.

Just then, a blur of red and gold streaked across the sky and swooped into the fray, destroying several bots with its repulsor blasts. It was Iron Man! Then he threw a man down who transformed into a physical embodiment of green anger. It roared and started tearing apart the robots. A shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw the quinjet hovering above them, hatch opening. Before it even landed, Captain America and Black Widow jumped out. Lightning flashed and more explosions boomed as the Avengers assembled.

 _This is so cool!_ The Avengers were mightily fighting right in front of him. If it weren’t real, he would have rushed to them and demand their autographs.

But there were too many bots and most of them who weren't battling the Avengers were hurting civilians who couldn’t run fast enough to avoid them. He couldn’t allow that. He took his mountain ash stick from his back pack. He hadn’t polished it yet nor marked it with runes and glyphs yet. But, he was a spark and he didn't necessarily need those.

 _Protect. Protect. Protect._ Stiles chanted in his head. Magic pooled in his hands, seeping out through the spaces between his fingers into his stick and a bright sky blue aura cloaked it. He kept chanting in his head.

A nearby scream got his attention. One of the bots was chasing a woman. Stiles run. He had a two feet long magical stick. He could totally take on these things. He swung his stick on the bot's chest. Blue sparks appeared like miniature fireworks and the bot was sent flying several yards, taking down two of its brethren as it collided with them.

Stiles laughed gleefully. _My magic works!_ And it worked spectacularly.

Then someone pulled him back, narrowly escaping a robotic hand from clawing him and the same person kicked it away. “What are you doing?” Jackson asked, panicky. 

“What do you think?” Stiles asked. He bashed the bot’s head when it tried to get up. “I’m fighting evil robots!” Stiles excitedly claimed, grinning like a lunatic because who in their right minds would be happy fighting robots that can crush your skull. 

“Do you wanna die?” Jackson shouted.

“Dude, Chill. I got my magic and my magic stick. I could totally take them on!” Stiles said, sounding far too enthusiastic than he had to. Whirling mechanical parts warned them of incoming hostiles. Jackson tried to pull Stiles away from it but the younger boy slipped from his fingers as he rushed forward. Stiles swung his stick and hit the incoming robot, bouncing off his stick as if it fell from a trampoline. “Jax, help me. This will be a great training opportunity.”

“I can't. What if I lose control?”

“You won't.” Stiles firmly said without hesitation. Jackson was taken aback by the shrill surety in his voice.

“How can you be so sure?” Jackson asked, disbelieving.

“Because I believe in you.” Stiles answered. Stiles' touched Jackson's shoulder and Stiles magic hopped on to Jackson in that instant. It was warm, soothing and it calmed his inner wolf, an anchor to his humanity. _My anchor_ , Jackson thought. “Dude, come on! We got robot butts to kick!” Stiles excitedly grinned at him.

“Fine, but you are so making me those brownies of yours later, Stiles." Jackson bargained.

“Got it, WolfMan. Call me Spark!” Stiles shouted, bounding toward the trouble. Jackson had a feeling they were somehow playing one of Stiles superhero fantasy.

Stiles’ stick seemed to glow brighter as he continued to bash the bots. Jackson picked up a metal rod and used it to stab a bot sneaking behind Stiles. Stiles whirled around and send Jackson a grateful look.

“I got your back.” Jackson said, pulling his weapon out of the bot. Stiles nodded and they advanced deeper into the fray.

Then, suddenly the Hulk jumped in front of him crushing a bot under his feet. The Hulk grinned at him as he hit a bot with his stick. "You. Smash. Good." Stiles could only stare at the green monster turned hero. "Smash!" The Hulk roared. He emphasized it by grabbing a bot and smashing it on the ground like a rug doll.

Stiles looked at Jackson for whatever he may say. But the usual king of snarky douche bag shrugged, at loss of response. So Stiles just smashed his stick to the nearest bot. The Hulk laughed before he cannon-balled to something that got his short attention.

“What the hell was that?” Jackson asked, a little dazed.

Stiles shrugged. “I think we just had a Smashing Bros Moment.” They went back to destroying the annoying minions.

Then there was an extremely strong explosion that almost knocked them off their feet. All at once, the bots fell down lifelessly on the ground. A roar of anger and anguish filled the air. Stiles and Jackson shared a look before running off to where it came from.

The Hulk was crouched over a severely injured Iron Man. Tony was unconscious, half of the armor was missing and there were multiple visible bleeding sites. When Captain America tried to approach them, the Hulk roared and crouched over Tony closer. The Hulk had gone wild.

Stiles recalled those stories when a werewolf's mate was injured and the werewolf became feral. Right now, the Hulk was like that. Tony should reassure the Hulk that he was okay but Tony was out of commission and wouldn't be coming back any time soon. And if they couldn't get Tony in more capable hands, Stiles didn't like what may happen to him.

Stiles had a lot of experience dealing with angry supernatural creatures especially the likes of a certain werewolf alpha. Surely he could do something. Stiles remembered the powdered sage flower in the vial on his keychain. It was supposed to be used for Jackson in case he lost control. Right now, the Hulk needed it more than Jackson.

Stiles decided to step in. He takes the vial from the key chain. He nudged Jackson by the shoulder and showed him the vial.

"Do you think it would work?" Jackson asked.

"One way to find out." Stiles said. Jackson nodded but his eyes were fearful and worried. Stiles opened the vial and poured the light purple powder on his palm. _Calm down. Calm down. Calm down._ Stiles purposely strode toward the Hulk and let the sage flower powder trickle between his fingers. The Hulk's growl caused him to stop when he was a several feet away. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Captain America standing beside him _. Not freaking out. Not Freaking Out! LATER!_ Right now, he must focus his mind on his belief. He took a deep breath and he whispered the chant instead of just thinking of them.

"Kid, get back. It's dangerous here!" Captain America said, in his best don't-mess-with-the-Law voice. Stiles just held his hands in front of his face. Steve then heard the whispered chanting.

Stiles took another step but it wasn't met by a growl so he continued until he was just a few feet away.

Stiles opened his hand letting the last of the powder merge with the air around them. Instantly, the feral glaze on Hulk's facial features faded. Stiles guessed he was safe now. "Hulk, you remember me right? Smashing buddies?" Stiles said, showing his stick.

"Smashing buddies." The Hulk repeated before he nodded.

"And smashing buddies can talk to each other, yeah? We can do that coz we are cool." Stiles said. The Hulk huffed.

"Hulk. No. Good. Talking."

"It's alright buddy. I can talk for both of us. I think Iron Man likes to talk as well, right?" Hulk nodded. "But he can't cause his hurt. You know that Tony is hurt, right? That is why you protect him."

"Hulk. Protect. Iron Man."

"But you need to let him go. He'll just get more hurt if he stays here. Tony is not as strong as you Hulk. He's weak inside the suit. He needs someone more delicate to help him."

"De-Li-Cate…" Hulk punctuates each syllable, frowning so much before he gets the meaning. "Like puny Bruce?"

"Yes, Like Bruce. Can you let Bruce take over so Bruce can help Tony?" Stiles said, cautiously. The Hulk scowled at the idea. He looked like he would disagree but then, he nodded.

"You. Smash. Good. You. Smash. DumbBots. Want. To. Hurt. Iron Man." Hulk said, the most human like Stiles had ever heard the guy.

"I promise." Stiles said, honestly. With that the Hulk began to shrink and after a few seconds shifted back to Bruce. Bruce knelt there gawking while Stiles stripped his hoody and pressed it on the bleeding wound on Tony's abdomen.

Bruce could not believe that a mere stranger could calm down The Other Guy. The muffled groan from Tony snapped Bruce back to the situation and he started to manually disassemble the mangled armor.

 

"Who is that kid?" Hawkeye asked as he watched the medics run off from the quinjet carrying a stretcher and medical equipment. Earlier, he trained an arrow on the kid’s head, ready to shoot him at any notice of hostility. "How the hell a kid like him managed to calm the Hulk?"

Black Widow was looking peeved beside him, not liking the lack of the knowledge of the kid, like it personally insulted her. She was already planning to dig up everything she could find on him.

"What he did was dangerous. He shouldn't have been out here fighting against those robots. He's just a kid." Captain America said, trying to be emotionless and factual but everyone knows how deep he was affected by the heroic scenario the kid pulled off. Steve breathed in deeply, trying to drown the guilt but he couldn't. Steve glared at the kid. "I'll have a word with him later."


	6. Civilian Heroics

Steve was used to civilians getting caught in the middle of an attack. A year in the Avenger business had thought him that even with the whole team fighting and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents backing them up, they couldn't save all of them. But still, Steve tried and would always be trying.

So when he heard a woman screamed for help, he automatically headed to save her. Only to find a brunet teenage boy put himself between the bot and the woman and bashed the bot with his stick into flying several feet away. The woman scrambled away immediately.

For several seconds, the boy stood there seemingly amazed with what he just did and did not noticed the other bots coming his way. Steve viciously fought off the bots crowding him to get to the boy, bashing and kicking and trying to find an opening to hurl his shield toward the bot about to attack the boy. Then, a blonde boy came up behind him and pulled him away. The blonde kicked the bot with amazing strength. Steve breathed a sigh of relief, placated that the boy was out of the trouble in the meantime.

"Iron Man, let's wrap this up quickly. Cover me." Captain America barked in the line.

"Roger that, Captain Rogers!" Tony answered.

Steve begun to run toward the Doombot, Tony paved the way while Steve took down those who escaped the repulsor blasts.

"Cap, we have civilians. 8 o'clock." Hawkeye said.

Steve bashed his shield on a bot before he checked it out. It was those kids from earlier. The brunet had a wooden stick that easily destroy the robot while the blonde one had a metal rod. The brunet lead while the blonde covered his back. It was eerily familiar. It was how he and Bucky fought.

"Dammit!" Cap cursed.

"Cap, language." Tony admonished and laughed. Steve would have blushed at his words if he weren't in the middle of a battle.  "Just let them. They hold better than any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent." Hawkeye huffed in the coms before an arrow shot up into the sky and separated to many shrapnel, taking out multiples shrapnel. "Of course, except, Clint. And Nat."

"Fine." Steve agreed between gritted teeth. He did not like this move at all. He hesitantly turned his back on them and faced the Doombot. "Let's get that bastard."

Steve bounded to the villain like a hellhound. The emotions running high in his veins wanted to tear it apart. They tag teamed on bringing down the Doombot and they were succeeding.

But then it intercepted Tony in midair and exploded. Steve was distantly aware of being blasted away, his thoughts focused on his teammate.

"Iron Man!" Steve shouted, around the thick cloak of dust. When his visions cleared, he saw Hulk protectively crouching over a severely injured Iron Man. The thought of Tony, his bestfriend, dying clenched his heart. He hadn't gotten over Bucky's death yet.  He couldn't lose Tony. When he tried to approach, the Hulk roared angrily at him.

"Cap, stop." He heard Natasha warned in his com.

"Someone coming behind you, Cap." Clint said.

He turned and saw the brunet kid from earlier stopped beside him.

"Kid, get back. It's dangerous here!" Steve said, in his best don't-mess-with-the-Law voice. The boy just held his hands in front of his face. Steve then heard the whispered chanting.

The kid took another step but it wasn't met by a growl so he continued until he was just a few feet away. Steve held his breath as the boy talked with the Hulk, clutching his shield and body tensed ready to spring in to action if the Hulk suddenly become hostile.

Then, a miracle happened. The Hulk begun to shrink until it shifted back to a human Bruce. It had to be a miracle.

Bruce knelt there gawking while boy stripped his hoody and pressed it on the bleeding wound on Tony's abdomen. The muffled groan from Tony snapped him back to the situation and he started to manually disassemble the mangled armor.

"Who is that kid?" Hawkeye asked as he watched the medics run off from the quinjet carrying a stretcher and medical equipment. Earlier, he trained an arrow on the kid’s head, ready to shoot him at any notice of hostility. "How the hell a kid like him managed to calm the Hulk?"

Black Widow was looking peeved beside him, not liking the lack of the knowledge of the kid like it personally insulted her. She was already planning to dig up everything she can find on the kid.

"What he did was dangerous. He shouldn't have been out here fighting against those robots. He's just a _kid_." Captain America said, trying to be emotionless and factual but everyone knew how deeplyhe was affected by the heroic scenario the boy pulled off. He vividly remembered his own scuffle when he was a kid before the serum. Plus, the way he fought with that blonde boy, it was far too reminiscent to how he and his bestfriend got each other's back and look where it led his bestfriend. Steve breathed in deeply, trying to drown the guilt but he couldn't.

Steve glared at the kid. Didn't he know how that blonde boy would feel if the Hulk lost control and killed him? To be left alone wondering how things might go if he stopped him from going in the first place? "I'll have a word with him later."

 


	7. Magical Exhuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles experience magical exhaustion. Guess who caught him before he fell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because someone gave me an idea through comments. i thank you. Now I used it. Forgot his or her username. But thanks for the tip anyway. ^_^

"Stiles." Phil Coulson called. "Why am I not surprised to find you here?" He asked rhetorically.

Stiles felt enough guilt to flinch at his uncle's question. He smiled sheepishly and was about to scratch that back of his head when he remembered it was covered with Iron Man's fresh blood. He stilled and brought his hands in front of him. It was all covered with blood from his favorite hero whom he just rescued from the Hulk after he talked it to calm down. There was a ringing in his ear. Just then his hand got blurry. Was it shaking or was he about to faint? Or maybe it was a little bit of both. May be he was getting off the adrenaline rush and that realization made him realize he was very tired.

His vision momentarily had flashes of white and the world tilted the way it shouldn't. Then someone was on his side. "-tiles!" He heard someone close shouted but it was very muffled.

He heard Phil bark orders before whoever was holding him hoisted him into his arms. It was a 'he'. Stiles was sure because there were hard muscles around him. It must be Jackson. Was Jackson always this muscular?

"Jaxsss, put me down. I can walk." Stiles said, trying to get up. But Jackson didn't budge him. If anything else, he just held on tighter.

Stiles shook his head, trying to clear out his vision. He was stronger than this. The white pulled back to his periphery and his vision got a little cleared. He squinted his eye as he looked at Jackson. But everything was still too bright to focus on and all he got were silhouettes on very bright background. "Put me down." He managed to sound a little firmer. Jackson scoffed at him.

His vision cleared better and he begun to recognize the shadowy figure carrying him. He didn't think it was Jackson carrying him. He was blonde with fair skin and bright blue eyes. But the shape of his face was wrong. Stiles blinked hard, believing his vision would clear when he opened them. He saw his magic flickered sky blue bright behind his eyes before fading the next second. When he opened his eyes, he could see clear again. His breath hitched as bright blue eyes looked at him with concern.

_It was Captain freaking America!_

Captain America was carrying him! Stiles freaked out. He would have fainted. He really would have if it weren't for the fact he almost did a second ago. And he didn't want to further embarrass himself in front of the national icon who saved the world on weekly basis.

Stiles groaned as he remembered he just gave the Captain a talk-to-the-hand gesture earlier. His father would scold him for hours if he ever finds out his son was rude to Captain America.

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" Captain America asked with genuine concern.

"I-I'm fine." Stiles stammered his face heating. The good captain frowned and was skeptical to believe that the kid was saying the truth. No human could get out of that fight unscathed and he did just hear him groaned. "I promise you’re not hurting me. It's that I gave you the talk to the  hand gesture earlier. I'm really sorry." Stiles explained. When the frown deepened. Stiles hastily added, "Sir!"

"We'll get you checked." The Captain said, leaving no arguments.

A shadow fell over them. Stiles realized that they just boarded a quinjet.

"Over here Cap." Phil said.

Captain America gently put him down. Stiles wobbled and his knees failed him but strong arms caught him and steadied him. Stiles held on the Captain's firm shoulder as the man guided him to take a seat. Steve crouched in front of him.

Captain America pulled back his cowl. Stiles was not prepared to see the handsome man beneath it. The photo ops of Time Magazine did no justice to show how handsome Steve Roger was.

Stiles caught his breath when those bright blue eyes stared back at him. He unabashedly stared back at the soulful eyes. So many emotions glittered through them but the most prominent was concern and worry.

"Thanks. I'm fine now." Stiles reassured him once he settled down.

Steve's eye grew hard and all those whirlwind of emotion died down. He could see the anger glinting in them. "You are far from fine." Steve reprimanded.

Then he remembered his company. "Wait. Jackson? Where's Jackson?" Stiles asked anxiously. He felt terrible for not checking first if his packmate was okay. But being carried by a handsome super soldier who constantly saves the world would shut down anyone from thinking rationally.

"He run back to gather your things. He'll be back immediately." Phil reassured. Stiles sighed in relief.

"So not a manager after all, huh?" Stiles mused. Phil winced, ever so slightly.

"Not entirely false. I 'manage' Avengers related 'stuffs'." Phil said carefully.

"Phil!" Stiles gasped. "That is so cool! Why didn't you tell me? Oh wait I know. S.H.I.EL.D. super spy and all the secret jazz. But still! You could have hinted me. Or given me authentic autographs. You know how I love them."

Steve backed away a little. Stiles, as what Phil called him, was loud. He flinched at the last sentence. Not much as he used to like last year. It was just that the way people looked up to him so high still made him uncomfortable.

"Stiles." Phil said, with fond exasperation. "How long have you known?"

Stiles grinned at the question. "I have been suspecting for years that you are a spy. I just don't know what org. It's just two months ago that confirmed it."

"How?" Phil asked curious.

Stiles looked away. "I might or might not have hacked into every security agency in the country?" Stiles said, wincing. He looked up trying to pull off that I'm-too-cute-to-be-in-trouble smiles.

Phil sighed that exhausted sigh that come in dealing with a hyperactive nephew and a team of superheroes.

Jackson came up the ramp. "Stiles!" He hurried over to him and hugged him tightly. Stiles returned the gesture and let the werewolf bask in his scent and nuzzling him, knowing it would calm him and his inner wolf.

Steve stood up and moved away. His chest constricting as he watched the two boys reunite. He forced down the memories triggered by the scene. Natasha and Clint came up with Thor tugging a worried Bruce with them. The raft closed and they were up in the air.

Jackson pulled back. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm okay, Jackson. Just really tired from using my stick." Stiles said.

"Your stick was glowing blue." Clint stated. Everyone looked at him. Natasha move herself beside him and touched his forearm. Stiles gripped his stick tighter. "And you-" Clint turned to Jackson, eyes aggressive with apprehension. "-your eyes were going blue."

Everyone on board was immediately on alert when they heard what Hawkeye said. That was when Jackson eyes turned to electric blue and growled at them smelling the huge amount of apprehension. At once, weapons were drawn and aimed on Jackson. Stiles put himself between Jackson and everyone else even if he collapsed on his knees and could barely raise his stick.

"Stiles get away from him." Phil ordered anxiously.

"Phil he must be compromised as well." Clint said, sternly.

"He's my nephew!"

"We don't know if it's still him. We need to take them down." Clint insisted.

Stiles could feel the magic building up inside Jackson. Instinct was driving Jackson to shift in order to protect him. If Jackson shifted, Stiles didn't have enough belief that he could take on the Avenger even if one was out of commission.

"Don't hurt him! I can explain!" Stiles said, his other hands on the ground trying to support himself. Stiles pleaded with them.

"Explain." Phil said.

"Phil!" Clint growled.

"I know what I'm doing, Clint." Phil glared at Clint before he turned back to his nephew. “Stiles, explain."

"He's eyes glows blue because he's a werewolf. It happens when he's heart rate goes beyond 150 or if he's experiencing intense emotions like right now. He could transform for you if you don't believe me. But please don't hurt him." Stiles said.

"Prove it. Transform." Steve said.

Stiles looked at Jackson. "Do it." Stiles said. Jackson nod and he shifted slowly to beta form. Everyone was surprised.

Then, Bruce stepped forward. "Can I come closer to know if it's real?" He asked. Jackson nod. Bruce came closer and leaned down inspecting the werewolf. "Can I touch you?" Jackson nod again. Bruce's hand hovered over his cheek careful not to spook the werewolf before touching it. Bruce was amazed by the revelation. "Amazing." He said, feeling down the smooth hair with the tips of his fingers. Bruce caught himself out of the marveling and stood straight. "He's real." He announced. Jackson shifted back to being a human.

“How about you? What's your deal?” Clint asked.

“The blue glow must have come from my magic, I think.” Stiles said slowly. He was perplexed by the odd occurrence. He would ask Harry he next time he saw the man.

"You think?" Clint mockingly asked.

"Okay, I don't really know why that happened. I'm new at this." Stiles scoffed.

Before Clint could replay, Phil cut in. "Alright that's enough. I think that's enough for now to know that my nephew and his friend are not dangerous. They did help us on the field and more. You can keep an eye on them if you want to Agent Barton but no threatening." He turned to Stiles. "Stiles, I think we should have that talk I've been meaning to have since you came here after we get you medical attention."

Stiles just nodded. Phil took his phone and answered a phone call. Jackson helped him up to his seat. All the Avengers were watching them warily, especially Hawkeye.

Thor locked eyes with him and he came over and sat beside him. Stiles could only watch owlishly as the Asgardian god looked at him. He was star struck, or rather, god struck.

"I feel the need to apologize in behalf of my brother." Thor said.

"Loki?" Stiles asked.

"Aye. You knew him?"

"From my books only. Why?" Stiles’ curiosity got the better of him.

"It was because of his magic that made the team wary of blue lights. Especially to the Man of Birds. My brother's magic can control people." Thor said carefully.

Then, it hit Stiles like a ton of bricks. Clint must have thought he was controlling Jackson. It might have triggered some PTSD thoughts from Clint. Being mind controlled must have sucked monkey balls.

"It's okay Thor. I'm not offended or anything."

"What may I call you, my friend? If you would still want to be one that is?" Thor cautiously asked.

"Who wouldn't to be friends with you? And it's Stiles. Stiles Stilinski." Stiles grinned like he had the best gift ever. First, Hulk. And now, Thor? At least not everyone was against him. "Friends." Stiles held up his fist and Thor mimicked him hesitantly, not knowing what to do. Stiles bumped his fist on Thor's. "That's a fist bump. That's how we sign our friendship on Earth. We're gonna do it from now on and every time we see each other." Stiles grinned at him and Thor grinned back. Now, he could totally tell his friends that he thought the God of thunder on how to fist bump.

"And your friend?" Stiles turned to Jackson who was still glaring at Hawkeye.

"Oh he's Jackson. Hey Jax." Stiles tapped Jackson on the arm to get his attention. Jackson faced him. "Thor, this is Jackson Whittemore, my packmate." Jackson smiled at Stiles term. "Jackson, this is Thor, the god of thunder, my new friend."

"You fought well in the battle. It's an honor to meet such fine young warrior." Thor said, offering his fist to Jackson.

Jackson looked at it then to Stiles. "You taught the God of thunder how to fist bump?" Jackson asked, disbelieving.

"I did!" Stiles claimed, excitedly.

Jackson shook his head, utterly giving up on Stiles and his antics, before bumping his fist with the god of thunder. His life just got weirder and weirder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles decides to learn hack soon after Peter died.


	8. Jackson's Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson has some issues to work with and Stiles will damn well try to fixthem.
> 
> And he might have develop a crush on a certain superhero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is a Pairing Poll and I'm rooting for Sterek. So if you guys are kind enough pls support my OTP and vote for them. Here the link: 
> 
> http://www.thebacklot.com/2014-slash-madness-round-three/08/2014/3/
> 
> Voting is unlimited. So please vote as many times as you could. In return I promise to update within this week again. Pretty pls! #sterek
> 
> Can anyone make me a Steve/Stiles fanart where a) Steve was carrying stiles, stiles was looking at him in awe but Steve was looking ahead, b) seteve carrying stiles and they were looking at each other, c) steve offering stiles his hand to help him stand, d) Steve supporting stiles with his arm around Stiles waist and stiles just realized his man crush on steve.  
> Any of those guys, I will be super happy! Pretty please! =D

Hospitals usually permeated strong scent of chlorine or other nose stinging cleaning agent and it always reminded Stiles of the loss he couldn’t seem to overcome even after 6 years had passed. But that scent wasn’t present on the medical bay of the Helicarrier. Stiles was silently thankful for that small reprieve. He was a jumble of nerves and excitement. Because really, it was the Helicarrier. Who wouldn’t freak out to walk down the halls of the floating battleship? He didn’t really walked per see because for some unknown reason he was too tired too even stand. Captain America who took it upon himself to be Stiles’ personal gurney had carried him to the medical bay.

Despite no full disclosure of Stiles’ credibility, the good Captain didn’t hesitate to offer his aid. Stiles hadn’t been able to protest because a) he didn’t have the energy, b) he was lost in those soulful eyes again and c) he may have fantasized once or twice exactly that moment. The captain laid him on the bed with surprising gentleness. Steve assured him that he would be okay and went to join Clint and Thor across the room. Natasha went with Bruce to check on Tony’s condition.

Clint on the other hand was extremely vigilant and wary of him. One wrong move and Stiles would have an arrow run through and exit his skull. The guy had reasons to be that cautious and Stiles didn’t blame him. No one had the right to take away anyone’s will, even if they were Gods.

Phil and Jackson stayed close to him, giving the medics just enough space to do their job.

“Everything seems fine with him, except for the extremely low blood glucose level. You just need some sugar and rest.” The doctor said. Stiles heard two audible sigh of relief.

“I can’t move just because I’m hypoglycemic. Man, this is just embarrassing.” Stiles said.

The doctor chuckled at him as he offered Stiles a glass of orange. Stiles took it and drank eagerly. Jackson automatically moved closer to him and touched his arm shoulder. Jackson was tense and there was that post traumatic protectiveness he saw on Scott around Allison after they survive the psychotic Alpha Peter scuffle.

Stiles gently grasped Jackson’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fine, Jax. You of all the people should know that.” Stiles reassured the werewolf.

But the werewolf only frowned deeper. Stiles sensed guilt and self-loathing cloaked Jackson like a burial shroud. It was bitter and cold. Jackson took his hand off Stiles but Stiles was having none of this self-loathing bullshit. He had seen it on his dad every time he drank too much. He had seen it on Derek every day. It had hungrily eaten those men, gnawing their soul, sipping their chance to recover and be happy again. Stiles wouldn’t let his packmate fall into that dark pit. _Never._ He firmly gripped Jackson’s hand, not letting it slip away.

“I… I resent everything I ever did to you in the past and whatever I did to you when I was being controlled.” Jackson confessed. Everyone perked up at his statement and watched them like hawks. “I’m sorry Stiles. I could…” Jackson swallowed thickly and looked away. “I could have….”

“It’s okay, Jax.” Stiles said, shaking the Jackson’s hand.  

“It’s not okay! I almost killed you! For two times!” Jackson mournfully said and his eyes flashed blue. He clenched his hands and blood started dripping from them.

Stiles immediately sat up and grabbed the werewolf’s fists. “Hey, hey. Jax, look at me. Look at me.” Jackson hesitantly faced to him. “I’m alive, breathing and talking. And it wasn’t you fault. You didn’t have a choice.”

“But _you_ tried to tell me but I didn’t listen. And look what happened. I killed those people. Because I didn’t listen to you.”

“No one listens to me, Jackson.” Stiles joked.

“I should have. Then no more should have died.”

Jackson clenched tighter and more blood dropped from his fist. Stiles pulled the werewolf onto him and embraced him with all his soul. “Whether you listened to me or not, Matt won’t and he’s the one controlling you. You don’t have a choice.”

“But I could have…”

“May yes, May be no. We could never tell. What’s done is done. You can't change what had happened."

Jackson sagged on him like rag doll, resting his forehead on his shoulder.

“But all those people… they died on my hands.”  Stiles hated the rueful defeat and screaming silent anguish in Jackson's voice. It clawed on his chest and he literally knew how that felt.

Stiles pulled away but he didn't break his touch. He placed his hands on Jackson's arms and squeezed them.

“It might be your hands but it wasn’t you, Jax. Someone else made you do it." Jackson shook his head and whimpered. "You can be the biggest douche bag in the world. But you are _not_ a murder. You, regretting it just proves the point that you are not."

Jackson heaved another whimper. "But I still killed them... I still hurt you."

Stiles touched Jackson's chin and gently tipped his head until they saw each other eye to eye. His eyes were filled with so much pain and self-loathing that made Stiles wonder if he could see anything pass his guilt.

"I'm going to say this again Jackson and I will tell you every day as your packmate until it gets through in the head of yours that: It. Wasn't. Your. Fault." Stiles pinned him with his most sincere look. Jackson caught his breath at raw honesty and that honesty began to peel away the tremendous guilt he carried all the way from Beacon Hill.

Stiles took a deep breath, remembering every time Jackson bullied him and all the unpleasant memories and feeling the werewolf procured. And he let all of it go when he breaths out. "I can blame you for a lot of thing, Jackson. But I will never, ever, blame this one to you. You hear me?" Jackson nod, acknowledging all his mistakes. "And all those other things. I forgive you, okay? So stop blaming you self and forget them. I want us to start on a clean slate. You want that too?"

Jackson nod vehemently. "I... I want that, too." Jackson threw himself on Stiles and hugged him as tightly as he could. Stiles wrapped his arms around the werewolf. "Thank you." Jackson whispered.

"It's what packmates are for." Stiles said, lightly. It made Jackson cling tighter. Stiles rubbed his back in soothing circle.

Stiles was a tactile person and he would hug Jackson some more but... Werewolf!

"Jax!" Stiles gasped, patting the werewolf on his shoulder blades. "Need some air."

Jackson disengaged immediately. "I'm so sorry, Stiles." Jackson rubbed his face frustratingly.

"It's okay. It's okay." Stiles wheezed out, laughing breathlessly. "Everyone forgets I'm no Captain America once in a while." Stiles laughed and Jackson chuckled.

Then, someone cleared their throat. Said someone was apparently Captain America himself. Stiles cringed at his joke. Phil looked at him in horror and fixed him a stern glare. Phil idolized the man since childhood and Phil had a long living policy to never sullen his hero's name or reputation. Stiles forgot about that. Stiles smiled sheepishly at his uncle.

"Are two okay now? Because the Director wanted to see the two of you as well." Phil asked.

"I am." Jackson said. He was a little bit shaken but he was good to go.

"Yeah me too." Stiles answered.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked. Stiles turned to his voice and blushed. Steve stood at the foot of the bed and Steve was looking at him with grave concern in those soulful eyes of his. Stiles averted his eyes to somewhere he couldn't see the handsome captain.

"I'm good." Stiles said. He grabbed his stick. A hand shot in front of him.

"Let me help you." Steve said offering his hand.

Stiles nod at him. He seemed to lose his words and do a lot of nodding in front of the superhero.

Steve encircled his arm around Stiles waist and helped him got off the bed. Stiles wobbled a little but at least he was not falling on his knees anymore. Steve kept his arms around Stiles when they headed to the Director's conference room.

Stiles tried hard not to think anything about the simple gesture. Steve would do it for anyone in a heartbeat. But Stiles found it hard not to, especially when he was leaning on the Captain's warm side. Stiles wondered what it would be like to hug Steve. At that thought, Stiles realized that his childhood idolization was starting to develop into a man crush. _Phil is so going to kill me._


	9. Troubled Teens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets the Director.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably add some more into this chapter tomorrow. It feels like it's lacking. I'm really sorry. i'll get back on it tomorrow.

Chess was Stiles’ forte but that didn’t mean he liked it. Chess was a play of strategy and thinking several steps ahead to form a contingency plan for a contingency plan. You needed to analyze your opponent’s move, deduce their strategy and break it while you implement and modify your own strategy. He was good at that but he didn’t like most part of it. In a game of chess, a pawn was a pawn. He could do everything with it. He could use it for attack, for cover, for diversion and even for sacrifice. And that was what he didn’t like about it anymore.

Once upon a time he was a very ruthless player. He would sacrifice any piece just to win. But that was before Scott was bitten and Stiles was pulled into this supernatural crap. Before the almost zero dead body count started piling one on top of another and the people he cared about were one step before their own burial pit. In one wrong situation, they would be forced to take that final step and fall in to their death. Stiles couldn’t let that happen to his bestfriend and his dad or any other people who have no choice in the matter whether they were aware of it or not.

After that, Stiles hated chess and hated how he used to play. Now, all he wanted to do was to preserve all his pieces and make sure he wins without losing anyone of them. He would do anything to protect them. That was why he invested all his savings to buy all his magical stuffs. So he wouldn’t have to be weak anymore and just stand in the sidelines watching his friends get hurt, doing nothing as people die. He wanted to be strong. Strong enough to win without using any other pieces but himself.

Call it naïve or childish or even stupid. But he was just tired of gathering and analyzing data, and planning and not be a part of the actual plan while everyone he cared about and everyone else get out there and risk their lives to survive and protect him. He wanted to be out there fighting alongside them for their survival, risking his own life for them as they would risk their life for his.

As Stiles entered the conference room, he watched Director Fury watch him with critical care and caution. The Director’s lone eye followed him, dissecting his very soul and analyzing it for its pros and cons. Just like Peter Hale. Stiles tasted something sour and bitter in his mouth. A comparison to Peter Hale plus Director of the biggest security and spy organization in the world. _That didn’t sound like a good mix,_ Stiles thought. Stiles was sure the man was manipulative, secretive and very dangerous. Director Nick Fury might be one of the most dangerous men in the world.

The only thing making Stiles not run away from him was knowing that Director Fury was one of good guys, despite the shady feeling that the man would not hesitate to sacrifice his life if it meant saving the greater good.

Jackson threw him a concerned look. He might have smelled the sudden tension and anxiety. Stiles smiled at him to reassure him.

Steve guided Stiles on to his seat. “Uhm Thanks.” Stiles said, softly and awfully shy.

Steve smile back, “You’re welcome.” Steve took the seat beside him and Jackson on the other side. Phil sat beside the Director and started reading something on his tablet. Natasha followed beside Phil while Clint chose to perch on the far end wall, his eyes locked on Stiles. Thor sat beside Steve. Bruce chose to stay and helped in Tony’s operation.

“Rupert S. Stilinski and Jackson M. Whittemore.” Director Fury addressed formally. Stiles cringed at hearing his name. He hadn’t heard it for years, not since kindergarten when someone made fun of it. Said someone was laughing beside him with his uncle. Everyone else had a smile plastered on their on their face, except Natasha who quirked her lips on him.

“Shove it, Jackson.” Stiles hissed. He glared at Jackson which only made the werewolf laughed some more. Stiles elbowed him. “No one calls me that anymore, Director. I go by Stiles. How did you even dig that up? I swear I had it on a lockdown.”

Natasha smirked at him. Director Fury intertwined his fingers. “Mr. Stilinski, I’ll inform you that we have the best of the best to unlock your so called ‘lockdown’.” Stiles pouted at that. He really should read more about these hacking stuffs. “But that’s not why you are here.”

Stiles straightened at that. He could feel Jackson tensed with anxiety and fear through what he now suspected as their pack’s bond. They looked at each other, silently asking if either felt the connection. The look of surprise in their eyes quietly supplied the answer. Stiles forced himself to stay calm. Both of them were new to this and he didn’t want to set off Jackson with his own feelings. Jackson sighed in relief as the emotional influx tossing back and fort through their bonds dwindled drastically.

Stiles turned his attention back to the Director.

“You’re little scuffle earlier caught S.H.I.E.L.D.’s attention.”

Director Fury stood up and touched the wall behind him. It came to life and displayed numerous files. He opened one. And it showed a camera footage where Stiles for the first time used his magical stick and then Jackson came to save him from the attacker that was sneaking up on him. “You see this bots are very hard to destroy even for properly trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Much more if you’re just an ordinary civilian. So how did you to manage to destroy dozens of them and came out almost unscathed?”

Everyone was quite, waiting for either one of them to answer the question. Although it could already be explained by his revelation earlier (Stiles knew that Director already knew that), they wanted a confirmation. Stiles peaked at Jackson who was discomfited by the question. After all, he did have a dark history. Stiles decided to explain. He loved to talk after all, whoever the listener might be.

“Okay. I’ll do my best to explain. We already established Jackson is werewolf. Real werewolves have superhuman strength, instantaneous healing and superhuman senses.” Stiles said. “Any type of injury heals immediately and probably gone the next second and minute at max.”

“That’s impressive.” Steve said in awe. The super serum takes more than minutes to heal his superficial wounds and bruises and about two to three days for deep wounds and bone fractures.

“Very impressive indeed.” Director Fury mused. “Now what about you, Mr. Stilinski?”

“I’m…” Stiles thought of saying the right term but that seemed too much yet useless information to give away. “I’m magic and I use a magical stick.” Stiles said as steadily as he could. Stiles held up his stick and put it on the table. Everyone zeroed in on the piece of wood. “This stick is made of rowan tree or mountain ash. It’s used as a protection against supernatural creatures and to ward off evil. I thought it might be used as a weapon if given additional boost of magic.”

“Can I?” Steve asked.

“Sure.” Stiles said.

Steve gingerly picked it up and weighed it on his hands. “This is so light. How come it does so much damage?” Steve asked, perplexed.

“I think my magic did that. It’s supposed to have some sort of barrier that’ll make it unbreakable in theory. I don’t really know. It’s the first time I used it as like that.”

Steve glared at him. “You mean you rushed out there not knowing if it’s going to work. Do you know how dangerous that is?” Steve asked, voice rising as he realized the kid might have been seriously hurt if the little piece of wood hadn’t worked, worse he might have died.

“Stiles.” Phil said, sounding lost.

“In my defense, the bot didn’t send an advance warning for me to try it out.” Stiles said.

“That’s beside the point!” Steve shouted, his eye burning with concern and anger. Stiles was startled by his voice. “You could have died out there.” Steve gripped the stick tighter and loosened immediately when he realized how strong he was gripping it, afraid that he might just break it.

Stiles bowed his head, accepting his error. He barely started on his own training and he run into the fray with little knowledge. “I know.” Stiles said, acknowledging Steve. He clenched his hands remembering all those deputy who fell when Matt’s temper tantrums came too far. He remembered Boyd and Erica being electrocuted. He remembered the bone chilling cold as he dived into the pool and saved a paralyzed alpha, floating for several hours because he could not take on the kanima by himself. All those time he was useless. He hated that feeling and he wanted to stop feeling like that.

Stiles unclenched his fist and a silent resolve washed over him. “I know.” Stiles repeated. He wouldn’t be useless anymore. He locked eyes with Steve. “But I’d do it again if it means saving someone’s life.”

“You don’t have to. That’s our job.” Steve countered, weakly.

“You can’t protect everyone, Cap.” Stiles stated matter-of-factly. "I would not watch someone die again without doing everything I could to stop it.” Stiles vowed, solemnly.

Steve clammed his lip because the kid was right. He couldn’t fight everything no matter how hard he tried. And who was he to Judge. He sacrificed his own life once to save New York and he would do it again in a heartbeat. Steve conceded to a point but that didn’t mean he can’t be unhappy about it. Steve grudgingly handed back Stiles’ stick.

“Stiles, does this have something to do with what had happened on Beacon Hill?” Phil asked, warily. Jackson stiffened, his anxiety doubling over. Stiles nod slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s not really my secret to tell. Jackson, what do you think?”

Jackson looked at him like a deer caught in the head lights. Then he bit his lips hard enough to draw some blood. He thought for a while and made up his mind. “Go on. I’ll take whatever judgment they give me.”

Jackson’s statement was met with various level of frown. The deepest was Stiles’.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Stiles reminded him.

“Still, it’s my body that killed them.” Jackson said.

 _At least he wasn’t blaming it **all** on himself_, Stiles thought. Stiles took Jackson’s hand on his. “You’re gonna be alright. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Stiles said before he turned back to his audience and narrated what had happened in Beacon Hills starting with Laura’s dead body. His story was truncated and he only mentions the highlights.

“It started when me and my bestfriend, Scott, looked for a dead body...”

When it came to the kanima part, Clint had moved to sit beside Thor and listened closely even though it pained him to remember his own brain washing. He wanted to know what had happened to Jackson and if there was something he could do for the boy. He clenched fist and tried to apply those breathing techniques Bruce taught him as Stiles told them what Matt made Jackson do.

“Do you remember…?” Clint asked, tersely.

Jackson’s eye flittered to the archer. Clint saw pain and guilt glittered through the werewolf's sullen blue eyes. “Everything.” Jackson choked.

Clint banged his fist on the table, tiny cracks forming under his fist. “I’ll kill him.”

“He’s already dead. Gerard killed him.” Stiles supplied, immediately.

“Thank fuck.” Clint said, huffing an angry yet relieved breath.

“Did that broke the kanima curse?” Steve asked.

“If only it was that easy. Unless Jackson knows who he really is, it won't break the curse. The control just transferred to Gerard…” Stiles continued his story. But when it came to the part he was kidnapped by Gerard, he hesitated for a second then decided _fuck it_.  He barreled head on before he lost the courage to tell his part.

He heard Phil cursed which was a rare moment. Stiles only heard Phil curse a couple of times in his life. At the same time, he heard something break. Steve was holding a piece of the arm of the chair.

“Sorry. I just don’t like bullies.” Steve said, gravely. Stiles just nod, knowing pre-serum Steve's heroic excursions.

“When I got back, I didn’t let anyone know except Dad. But he doesn’t know the real story. I told him someone from the other team beat me up but didn’t saw them. Phil don’t tell Dad. I… I’ll tell him when the right time comes.”

“Okay. But I need to know what happened to that man.” Phil had this dangerous glint in his eyes like Derek’s when they were talking about his sister’s killer. It made Stiles whole body shivered in fright.

“I don’t know. He just disappeared. We were kind of focused on Jackson coming back to life as a werewolf.” Stiles said.

“Agent Romanov, I want that man found.” Phil said.

“Yes, sir.” Natasha started digging up on her widow stinger, a multipurpose bracelet which stiles was pretty sure was a weapon of mass destruction under Black  Widows more than capable hands.

“Hold on, how did he break from being a kanima?” Director Fury asked.

“We don’t really know… It should have been…” Stiles trailed off when he realized something. _“…What is impossible for us is possible for you.”_ Stiles remembered Harry said. “…Impossible.” He didn’t voice out his speculation. After all, it was impossible.

Jackson eyed him suspiciously as did Natasha, Phil, Director Fury and Clint. Somehow, they knew he just realized how it happened. But none of them pushed on the subject.

“What are you going to do to me now?” Jackson asked impassively and bracing himself for whatever punishment would be given to him.

“Nothing.” Director Fury said.

“Nothing?” Jackson asked disbelievingly. “You’re letting me off the hook just like this even after everything I’ve done.”

“Mr. Whittemore, as what Mr. Stilinski said, ‘It wasn’t your fault.’” Phil said.

“But-“

“SHIELD have protocol for individuals who fall under mind controll. And based on them, you are innocent and no further investigation shall take place.” Phil stated formally.

“Now, back to more important matters. How did you do this?” Director Fury asked. He played another video. This time it was of Stiles talking to the Hulk. Stiles watched as Hulk turned back to being Bruce.

Stiles pulled out his key chain and let the bottle containing the pink powder dangle. “This powder is made of sage flowers. I made it in case Jackson loses control and use it to calm him down.”

“A flower?” Director asked mockingly. “We used the most powerful tranquilizers and sedatives on the hulk. And you just used a fucking flower.”

Stiles’ brows twitched at the mocking. “Director, sage does have calming properties but when empowered by magic its potency increases exponentially, strong enough to calm down angry, blood lust crazed creatures.” Stiles explained and leveled him with a flat look. Stiles might be new to this but he knew his shits, except his magic but he was getting there.

“Stark would have love seeing this.” Clint said, smirking at the director. Nick Fury glared at his subordinate, praying for more patience in dealing with his smart mouth subordinates.

“What happens now?” Stiles asked.

Director Nick Fury smiled wolfishly at him like he was waiting for Stiles to ask the exact question.

“No Nick. This is exactly what I’ve been preventing since I became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” Phil protested, glaring at his superior.

“They’re already in the mix, Phil. Won’t it make you feel better knowing your nephew and his friend are properly trained than going blindly on their own?” Director Fury said casually. Phil got the logic and benefit but that doesn’t stop him from glaring at his superior. He didn’t want to see Stiles or his friend on his compromised list. “Plus, you don’t want them ending up in your list.”

“Fine, but I’ll handle them and if and only if they agree. And no missions till they hit consenting age.”

“Seems more than amicable from you Phil.” Fury said.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked, curious with the banter. Fury was striking a deal with Phil about missions and training and consenting age. “Are you discussing the terms of our recruitment? Cause that’s really funny. I’m not exactly spy material.” Stiles laughed but then he was met with serious looks which made him pause mid-laugh. “Wait. You’re not kidding?”

“Agents doesn’t directly mean spy but everyone is required to do espionage units.” Phil said.

“Wait you want us to be Agents of S.H.I.E.LD.?” Stiles asked, not knowing how to feel about that.

“No missions. Just trainings so you can be equip when you’re dealing with supernatural and human threats.” Phil said.

Steve wanted to protest that they were kids but he was shortly reminded that these kids had faced more than they should have and were forced to step in their adulthood earlier. So Steve remained quiet and not seemed to mind.

“Do you want to be part of S.H.I.E.LD.?” Phil asked.

“I want in. You Jax?” Stiles answered. Stiles turned to Jackson.

“Where Stiles go, I go. I want in too.” Jackson declared.

Stiles grinned at his decision. “We’re in.” Stiles finally decided.

“Good. End of debrief.” Director Fury dismissed the group with a glare.

Phil came up to them and hugged his nephew. It caught him off guard but Stiles returned the gesture as warmly nonetheless. “Stiles, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you.”

“It’s alright, Uncle. I understand. Saving the world is an important job.”

“Not more important than saving your own family. I’ll try harder to be there for you and your father.”

Stiles softly smiled at that. Phil pulled back and flattened his suit, going agent mode.

“This has been a stressful day. We should get you two home. I’m sure Stark has extra available rooms at the tower. We’ll move you two out tomorrow.” Phil said and he led them out.

“Wait. We’re moving to the STARK tower?” Stiles asked, excitedly.

“Where else do you think the Avengers live?” Phil asked with a coy smile.


	10. Starting to Feel Like A Pack.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack cuddles, baking and more pack cuddles.  
> There's a baker!Stiles scene

Phil waved goodbye at Stiles and Jackson as the ramp of the quinjet pulled up. Stiles waves manically at his uncle while Jackson shortly held his hand up.

An agent approached them. “I’m Agent Ward. Agent Coulson tasked me to escort you back to your house.” He said, monotonously.

Stiles cringed at the stoic expression and promised not to become like Agent Ward.

“Dude, you can just drop us off on the ground. Once we touched down. Not from ten thousand feet above the air ‘cause that would really hurt. We can find our way home.” Stiles said.

“But Agent Coulson specifically said-”

“Yeah, yeah, but I bet you have a dozen more important task than ‘escorting’ us.” Stiles cut in.

The agent frowned. “This is more important. Phil will have my head if something happened to either one of you. I hope you understand?”

Stiles and Jackson nodded. The quinjet whirred then thrummed steadily as it moved out of the hanger.

After a few minutes, they landed on top of a building. “Where are we?” Stiles asked as the ramp lowered down.

Agent Ward led them out and answered, “We are at the Triskellion. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s HQ here in New York.”

“Are we allowed to know that?” Stiles asked. They got on the elevator.

“Yes. Your clearance level permits you.”

“We have clearance level? But we’re not agents. We aren’t even training yet.”

“According to my data, you two are credited as level 1.” The man sounded peeved. Stiles scooted closer to Jackson just in case the man did something insane like throw him out of the window. But since Stiles like to push things until people told him to shut up or slammed them on the nearest hard surface, he asked, “What level are you?”

The man smiled toothily, “I’m level 7.”

Stiles gulped. He knew from his short scouring through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database that the highest security clearance _was_ level 10. Agent Ward was more than what he seemed.

“Don’t you think it’s way under your pay grade to do escort missions?” Stiles asked.

Agent Grant smiled at Stiles, but this time it was softer, more genuine. “Yes, but this is more like paying personal favor from Phil. Besides, to Phil there is no more important mission than keeping his family and friends safe. Phil trusts me enough to get both of you safely back at home.”

"Yah, that's my uncle alright." Stiles said, smiling more genuinely at the man. The elevator dinged and the door opened.

Agent Ward led them out of the building. A black Acura vehicle was already waiting for them. When he got in and leaned back, he immediately fell asleep.

Stiles must be more tired than he thought because the next thing he knew Jackson was shaking his shoulders to awaken him. His vision was blurry went he face Jackson.

“We’re home.” Jackson said. Stiles nodded and he literally crawled out of the car. He completely missed the judging but fond smile from the older teen. Jackson helped him out of the car. Jackson thanked Agent Ward. Stiles only managed to mumble a sleepy 'Thanks'.

 

Later, Stiles found himself waking up on his bed with a warm cuddly werewolf plastered all over him. With bleary eyes, Stiles watched the blonde boy sleep soundly pressed up on his chest. If he remembers it right, Jackson was sleeping on his right. However, some when in their sleep the werewolf managed to transfer on his left, seeking out his heartbeat and was lulled in a peaceful sleep.

Stiles threaded his hands through the werewolf's soft luscious hair. The werewolf sighed happily in his sleep. Stiles found himself smiling at the excessive cuteness of his packmate. He looked for his phone and found it on the nightstand. He put it on silent mode and begun taking pictures of the sleeping werewolf. Then he snapped a few with himself on it. He set a picture of him and Jackson as his wallpaper.

If Jackson was Scott, he'd be posting it on his Facebook wall. That being said, he remembered they were not even friends on Facebook or any other social media sites. He decided it was high time to change that. Stiles added Jackson on his Facebook and Twitter.

Stiles’ stomach rumbled loudly and he realized he was extremely hungry. He remembered he had hypoglycemia and he did not have lunch nor snack. Stiles checked his phone. It was 35 minutes past four in the afternoon.

Stiles pulled away from the tangle of limbs and get up. But Jackson wanted nothing of it and pulled him back down and snuggled closer. When Stiles tried to pry off his arms around his waist, the werewolf simply clung tighter like an octopus with a turbine powered suction caps.

“Sleep.” Jackson mumbled, nuzzling on Stiles chest.

“Jax, I need to eat.” Stiles said.

Jackson looked up at him, blinking sleepily. Stiles thought it was cute. Stiles now understand what Lydia saw on Jackson. These rare and small moments of innocence and kindness made up for all those douchiness. These small lapses that showed who he really was and not the pretentious perfect adopted son of the Whittemore. It warmed his heart that Jackson had opened enough for him to be able to see this side of him.

“Just a quick snack, then you can go back to being an octopus.”

Jackson scrunched his nose at the thought of moving and being apart from a wonderful pillow that was Stiles. His nightmares had not visited him in his sleep ever since he slept with Stiles. He decided to forgo with food and happily plopped his head back on Stiles’ chest.

Stiles huffed at the werewolf’s response.

“Dude, I’m so hungry. We did not eat lunch yet and it’s four already. Plus I did promise you those brownies and I can’t make them if we stay here all day.”

Jackson scowled him, feeling a little betraying for being bribed with Stiles’ irresistible brownies. “Fine.” He pushed off Stiles and sit on his feet. “But you’ll make a lot of them.”

“Sure, sure. May we can make more to bring when we got to the Avenger Tower.”

Stiles slid off the bed and stood up, stretching to wake up his sleeping muscles. Some joints popped and he felt better.

They went to the kitchen. Stiles rummaged through the kitchen and decided to fix a dozen peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Let’s watch TV while we eat." Stiles said as he piled the sandwiched on the plate. Jackson nodded his agreement. "Jax, can you get the glasses and a tumbler of water?"

Jackson wordlessly followed Stiles' request and he even got a tray. Jackson stood beside Stiles, an easy smile on his face as he languidly waited for him to make more sandwiches.

"I think that's enough for my ravenous hunger and your werewolf appetite." Stiles said, twisting close the lid of the peanut butter jar.

Jackson took the tray and they made a beeline for the living room. Jackson put tray on the coffee table and moved it closer to their chair for easier reach.

Stiles plopped on the sofa and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels for something good to watch. He settled for an episode of OogieAndThe Cockroach. The werewolf sat beside him and tried casually to scoot closer to bask in the warmth and scent of his packmate but failing epically. Stiles was not oblivious to the way the werewolf was subtly scenting him. Stiles held back his laugh when Jackson inched his foot closer to his then moved it away in the last second. Then he would do it again.

Stiles took the plate and put it on his lap. Instead of plopping back on the backrest, he leaned on Jackson’s side and the back of his head resting on Jackson’s shoulder. He propped his legs on the table and squirmed a little to settle on comfortable position. Stiles used to do this with Scott every time they watch a movie or something so it was not a big deal for him to barge into someone's personal space. Behind him, he felt the werewolf put his arm around his shoulder and sighed in satisfaction.

Stiles offered Jackson a sandwich, which he silently took.

"What a stupid cat." Jackson commented when the feline protagonist of the show got bested again by his three cockroach nemises. Jackson scowled at the TV but the corner of his lips was twitching from a suppressed smile.

Stiles chose not to point out that he was enjoying the show despite his comment and they continued to watch quietly, well as quiet for someone with an ADHD like him who constantly comments about anything. They easily demolished their late afternoon snack.

After the episode, Stiles decided to play with the old Nintendo and Jackson agreed.

After a few hours of nonstop playing, Stiles phone rung. He chose to ignore it in favor of not losing against Jackson.

"Stiles, answer your phone." Jackson said.

"No! I'll lose when I pick it up." Stiles said.

Jackson rolled his eyes before pausing the game. Stiles looked at him disbelieving.

"You heathen! Mario Cart is a holy sport that should not be halted for any reasons!" Stiles said. Jackson rolled his eyes again.

"Your phone." Jackson insisted. Stiles huffed at him.

"The game gods frowns upon you!" Stiles claimed before answering the call from his Uncle Phil. "Hey, Uncle. What's up?"

"Stiles, I just called to let you know that I won't be able to come home tonight. It's an emergency. I'm sorry."

"No it's cool, uncle. I understand. Saving the world and all. Just be safe okay."

"Always, Stiles. Don't go finding trouble while I'm gone."

"Uncle, when did I ever do that?" Stiles said. Jackson gave him an unimpressed look and he could picture his uncle doing the same on the other end of the line.

"Right." His uncle drawled, clearly not believing his word. "Just be safe too. See you tomorrow, Stiles."

"Okay, bye." Stiles hanged up. He saw the time. It was already 15 minutes past 6.

"I think we should start on making diner." Stiles said and he stood up. Jackson followed him back to kitchen.

"You promised me your brownies." Jackson said.

Stiles checked the ingredients but a lot were missing.

“We're lacking most of the ingredients.” Stiles said. Jackson pouted at that. "It's still early. May we can just take out our dinner then we will have time to buy the missing ingredients and bake it tonight. Whatcha say?"

"I'm good with that." Jackson said, losing his pout.

They went back up stairs and changed their clothes. Stiles took his wallet from his previous pants. He grimaced when he saw the almost empty vial of sage. He noted to restock later. Knowing his luck and propensity to go looking for dead bodies, he would need it soon.

“There’s a Walmart just a couple of blocks away.” Stiles said when they got out of the house.

As they trekked the down the street, Stiles’ nape prickled and he got the feeling of being closely watched. He looked behind him but saw no one looking at him. He dispelled the odd feeling and blamed it on the notoriety of New York for pickpockets and no good doers.

When they got to the grocery, Jackson volunteered to push the cart. Stiles looked for the usual brands he used back in Beacon Hills. He asked the sales lady for direction so they can save time.

When they got to the counter, Jackson insisted on paying because he wants half of the finished product. Stiles laughed at his determination to secure his dibs. Back in Beacon Hills, he and his mother used to bake pastries for the school fair. However, it was their brownies that was a major hit and was anticipated every year by everyone. Whenever there was a party, he always got a request for their brownies.

But when his mother died, he stopped make them. It felt wrong to make them without her. It felt entirely wrong to continue baking without her so he stopped baking altogether.

Then, Scott’s dad left and his best friend was devastated. Scott had let slip that Claudia used to bake them brownies whenever they are down. His heart stopped at the mention of his mother and baking. His stomach sunk when he realized that his mother would whip her special brownies to cheer up Scott if she was there. Scott immediately apologized for what he said. But Stiles had wake up from his stupidity. His mom would not like that he stopped the favorite thing they do. Therefore, Stiles went to the kitchen and started making his brownies for Scott.

Ever since then he started baking again and he would bake for the school fair. Everyone loved it. He guessed it was one of his redeeming qualities, even Jackson had not insulted is baking skills. And now, he even bartered it as a reward.

Jackson hefted their good in his arms. Stiles tried to take one of the paper bags but Jackson moved it away and claimed he was much stronger than he was. Stiles rolled his eyes at him. They walked back home.

Halfway from home, Jackson suddenly stopped and he looked around, sniffing the air. His chest rumbled with a barely concealed angry growl. Stiles paused beside him and watched Jackson scanned the place. ‘Werewolves’ Jackson silently mouthed. Stiles immediately tensed. HE swiftly grabbed his keychain and opened the vial of mountain ash.

As if on cue, three men walked to them. Just their luck. Stiles appraised them. They did not look evil at first sight. He did not get the destructive aura he felt from Alpha!Peter. But they were guarded and ready to leap at any given moment.

“Good evening, boys. We'd like to talk to you.” The man in the middle addressed Jackson.

"Do you know him?" Stiles asked, feigning innocence.

"No, I've never seen them." Jackson said. Stiles thank god he played along.

"It's alright. We just came to warn your friend to not cause troubles. We don't take kindly to trouble makers."

Stiles got the hidden message there and he didn't like the sound of them threatening his packmate.

"I don't like how you are threatening my packmate, dude. But we are not the one who came looking for trouble so back off." Stiles said. Stiles didn't know where his courage was coming from but it was there and he was on a roll to protect Jackson.

The men were nothing short of surprise at his little outburst but they quickly recovered.

“We'll this is a surprise. I'm sorry if we came off as intimidating. We didn’t know he had a pack. You’re alpha should have contacted us before you came here or right after you arrived.” The middle man said.

“We don’t have an alpha. But I can a sure you, my friend is the least bit of your concern. He’s in control. More in control than any other werewolves in the world could possibly.”

“But he’s still an omega and omegas lose control easily. You may want to reconsider your friendship with him.”

“I have an alpha.” Jackson claimed.

“I thought you didn’t join Derek’s pack?” Stiles asked perplexed by his statement. Jackson leveled him with a flat look.

“Stiles, _you_ are _my_ alpha.” Jackson said. Stiles was about to protest but Jackson barreled on. “You might not know. But the second you accepted me, you became my alpha. I know you are. I can feel it deep in my bones.”

Stiles’ breath got caught in throat. He stared unbelieving at the older teen, wondering how this boy could easily accept such big thing. Then Jackson tilted his head and bared his neck. Stiles felt his magic flared and rushed through the new and fragile bond, transforming it into something that could never break. Out of instinct Stiles reached out and touched Jackson’s neck. His magic immediately reared back in, but in its place it left a pack bond. Their pack bond. He feel Jackson’s trust in him.

“Well, this is interesting.” The middle guy said.

At the sound of the man’s voice, Stiles removed his hand but the connection, the feeling, still remained. They both returned their attention to the men.

“You don’t smell like an omega anymore. These certainly changes things.” The man paused and thought for a second. Then he pulled out a card from his wallet and handed it to Stiles. “I’m Ronan, beta of the Yorkshire Pack. Call me in the next two days so we can set up a meeting with my alpha, okay? I’m sorry if we came off as threatening. Most of the wolves who came here don’t have good agendas.” The man offered them a kinder smile.

“It’s cool man. Just don’t do it on teenagers, some of them didn’t have a choice to be bitten.” Stiles said.

Ronan nodded. The men turned their backs on them and walked away. When they were well away from hearing distance. Stiles puffed a relieved sigh.

“Dude, that was close.” Stiles said. “When were you ever gonna tell me I was your alpha?”

Jackson shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

“Dude, you know me. I would have said if I knew.”

"Wait, there’s still one more. I can smell Hawkeye." Jackson stated. Stiles followed his line of sight and saw someone on the roof top of the next building

"Hey dude!” Stiles shouted waving his hands. “Clint, right? ‘cause that's what Uncle called you. Could you come out? We know you're there."

Hawkeye slid out of the shadows. He wasn’t in his suit anymore but he was wearing some kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. And was carrying a silver paper container on his back.

"Did Uncle send you to baby sit us?"

Clint scowled at the word. "Phil wanted me to watch over you. It's within the first week that evil organization recruits people who just discovered their superpowers."

"Righttt, that's essentially babysitting."

"Look, I'm sorry that we started on the wrong foot but you’re important to Phil. And Phil is..."

"...important to you." Stiles finished. "Wait... you and my uncle?"

Clint smiled sheepishly. "It more of me than your uncle. Phil liked to keep things... professional. So are we good?"

“Yeah we’re good.”

“What about blondie here?”

Jackson snarled.

“Sure. Whatever. But if you ever dare to hurt Stiles, I’ll rip your throat out.” Jackson flashed his eyes.

“Sure, kid. Whatever you say.” Hawkeye winked at Jackson. Jackson glared at him.

“Why don't you join us for dinner? It’s take out but I'm sure it beats eating alone while babysitting us from a distance."

“I can never pass up free food.”

They went back to Phil’s house.

“So your name is Clint?”

Stiles asked half way through dinner.

"So how long have you known Phil?"

“A long time. Before shield. Phil was actually the one who recruited me.” Clint said, letting his lips curve into a nostalgic smile.

“Have you and my uncle… uhhh… uhm… have sex?”

Clint’s face soured and a pouted a little bit. “No, he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid it’ll _‘compromise’_ our mission.” He wrinkled his nose and grumbled a little.

“Yeah, I figured. Besides, Uncle Phil has a very very big thing for Captain America. He had this sacred collection of memorabilia upstairs that was entirely off limits. I mean who wouldn’t worship him. He is literally the pinnacle of human perfection.” Stiles said.

Jackson picked up the fleeting skip in Stiles’ heartbeat and he looked at the younger boy. And that musky _stench_ from the earlier was back with a vengeance. This _was_ one of his problems, the sensory overload. Too many stimuli were being picked up by his super senses. And most of them were never there when he was human. It was a nightmare. It was hard trying to block it out.

“What the hell is that smell?” Jackson asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Hmm?” Stiles inquired with his spoon shoved in his mouth.

“It’s this scent. I’ve been smelling it on and off after the fight. I don’t know what it is but it’s very strong.” He said.

“What does it smell like?”

“It’s not really bad. A bit musky, heady. Like a body spray but softer?”

Stiles almost choked on his food. Stiles had done more than enough research to know that that smell sounded very much like pheromones. And he had a feeling that it was coming off from him. Damn Clint for forcing him to remember Cap’s perfection. Stiles swallowed hard his food and cleared his throat.

“May be it’s something we’ve picked up from the battle. Does it bother you so much?” Stiles suggested.

Jackson sniffed the air. The scent had abated and was almost lost and found it didn’t really irritate his nose unlike other smells. “Not really. But I want to know what it was.” Jackson frowned, pitching his spoon into his food.

“You’ll figure it out eventually.” Stiles hoped not too soon.

When they got finished eating, Jackson immediately cleared the table.

“I’ll clean this. You start baking.” Jackson said, pushing Stiles into the kitchen.

“Okay, okay. Mr. Bossy Wolf.”

“Isn’t it a little too late to start baking?” Clint asked as he watched the werewolf dumped the take out container in the trash bin.

“No.” Jackson said scowling.

“It is you know.” Stiles countered.

“Less whining! More baking!” Jackson barked.

“What’s the big deal?” Clint asked curiously, looking at the werewolf with a playful smirk.

“Stiles makes the best brownies.” Jackson went to Stiles. “What can I do?”

Stiles begun giving orders and Jackson followed with critical precision, not wanting to damage the end product. Clint sauntered to the counter and offered his hand.

“Is there anything I can help as well?” Clint asked. Stiles smiled and gave him his task.

Stiles laughed at his helpers. Both of them were too absorbed in their little task. “Guys, relax. This is just baking. You’re not defusing a bomb.”

Clint huffed while Jackson scowled at them.

“Bomb diffusing is a lot easier.” Clint cited.

Stiles leveled him a look. “Of course, you would say that.”

Later, when the first batch of brownies had cooled, Stiles gave Jackson the first cut and he had a one very happy werewolf camper.  Stiles cut one for Clint and another for himself.

“Oh this is good!” Clint exclaimed through a mouthful. Stiles beamed at the compliment. “I can eat all of this.”

Jackson growled. “They’re mine.”

“Dude, chill.” Clint held up his hand, trying to placate the werewolf. “I’m not going to eat all of it. I want to but not unless you want me too. Okay? Peace.”

“Jackson.” Stiles reprimanded.

“Fine. You can have another slice. Just. One.”

Clint beamed at that. “I’ll take what I can get from you, Jax.” He winked at Jackson.

Jackson rolled his eyes and turned back to enjoying his sweet reward.

Stiles wrapped a slice of brownie for Clint which the archer happily took.

“So you’ll be creepily watching over us from another building?” Stiles asked.

“Probably. But SHIELD have enough eyes for both of you.” Clint said, walking over to the window.

“Does that mean were are under surveillance? Is my room bugged?” Clint just shrugged and jumped through the window.

Stiles hoped there is HOW TO FIND OUT IF YOUR HOUSE IS BUGGED in google. Call him hypocrite but he doesn’t want anyone secretly watching him doing any of his business and happy times. That was just a big No No.

 

Later after Jackson ravaged a plate full of brownies, they retired to their room.

“Dude, best day ever!” Stiles claimed as they sat down.

“Your criteria of best day ever is _entirely_ different than mine.” Jackson grumbled.

“But dude, you got to admit. Meeting the Avengers, _The_ Avengers, is epic!”

“Yah, except for the part where we’re in the middle of freaking battle and Iron Man is severely injured.”

“Dude, that just put more kick into it! _We_ fought alongside _the_ Avengers. It’s a dream come true!” Stiles babbled with untamed excitement.

“I knew it!” Jackson narrowed his eyes at Stiles. “We were playing out your comic geek fantasies, you big dork!” Jackson accused. Stiles blushed, remembering the way Captain America carried him and those unyielding tout and hard muscles. Jackson caught a strong and sharp musky scent he had smelled ever since he caught up with Stiles on the quinjet to get to the Helicarrier. Plus, he felt glee and arousal that was entirely not his. “You’ve got sexual fantasies on the Avengers!”

Stiles looked away and stared at his feet innocently. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Stiles denied. Jackson could tell Stiles was lying, even without his werewolf senses, he could see the lie, plain and obvious.

“Who is it? Is it Black Widow?”

“What?! No! I do not fantasize Black Widow!” Stiles protested hands flailing around. Jackson remembered the rumor that Stiles was bisexual.

“Is it Thor?”

“What?” Stiles gaped at his suggestion.

“It’s Cap, isn’t it?”

Jackson heard the sudden flicker in Stiles’ heartbeat. Stiles stilled and blushed deeper. The scent of arousal spiked up. “Oh my god, It’s him!” Jackson cackled.

“Shut up, Jerk Face.” Stiles hit Jackson with the pillow in the face. “No one can resist his eyes, or his arms, or his eyes.” Stiles’ sigh was dreamy. Jackson laughed even harder.

Stiles kicked him off the bed but it didn’t stop the werewolf from laughing at his expense.

“You are totally smitten!” Jackson accused gleefully. Stiles flung his pillow on the werewolf’s face which the werewolf caught easily.

“I’m am so going to sprinkle all your underwear with mountain ash. You just wait, Whittemore.” Stiles doused with no heat.

“Whatever. Now, scoot over. I want to sleep.”

“You have a sleeping bag you know.” Stiles whined but did as he was told.

Jackson stood and climbed beside Stiles. “I know. But I like it better here.”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile. “Why? I mean, why is it better here?”

Jackson scowled at him before he grudgingly answered. “You keep my nightmares away.”

“Jackson Whittemore, I didn’t know you were a big sap!” Stiles claimed, chuckling.

“Shut up, Stiles. But it’s true. Ever since I started sleeping with you, I don’t have nightmares anymore.” Stiles couldn’t stop his smile from growing wider. “Stop smiling. You look like an idiot. Now let me sleep.”

Stiles scoffed, trying to stop smiling but he just couldn’t. “Come here you Big Puppy. I declare to have a pack cuddle.” Stiles dove on Jackson and latched at him like how the werewolf did earlier that day. Stiles felt Jackson wound his arms around his torso. Safe and content, the two teens fell easily on cozy asleep.


	11. At The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Jackson moved to the Avenger tower. Some magic and a bit of romance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the season long hiatus but here is an update, hope you enjoy it. Comment if you want, I'm open to suggestions and even violent reaction. And I'm looking for a dedicated beta who can edit this fic because grammar and spelling were never my strongest suit. Reach me through my email add davevibar@gmail.com or facebook account https://www.facebook.com/the.boy.who.run.with.the.wolves

Stiles had imagined what it would be like inside the Avenger’s home. He had always thought of strange and not safe for civilian occurrence. When Happy, Tony Stark’s personal driver picked them up, he had imagine some highly comical scenarios, like being welcomed by daggers and arrows, even lightning bolts.

But this? This wasn’t exactly what he expected. Except it was kind of the logical thing to expect because despite their superhero inclination they are all still part human, or part human, and this was how humans naturally act when they are in their homes. Clint was perched on the head rest of the sofa while Black Widow and his uncle where busily surfing through their tablets. Thor and Steve shared a couch. Steve was reading some files, classified Stiles assumes when he closed it when Stiles and Jackson arrived. Thor was happily munching on some Poptarts.

 “Oi, Stiles and Blondie!” Clint shouted when he saw Jackson. Stiles waved at the archer.

Jackson growled at him. “Stop calling me that. I have a name. It’s Jackson.”

“I know, Jackie!” Clint said and winked at Jackson, eliciting another annoyed growl from the werewolf. It only made the archer grin wider.

“Sorry about last night, Stiles.” Phil said, smiling apologetically at them.

“Is cool.”

“Are you wearing make up?” Phil asked as he set aside his tablet.

“Who? Me?” Stiles pointed at himself. Phil nod. “No. It’s real. Last night, I looked up some healing spells so maybe I can help heal Iron Man because he was pretty banged up yesterday. I tested on myself. And voila good as new.” Stiles grinned proudly at his accomplishment.

“You could also do that?” Steve asked, staring at his face, curious and amazed.

“Apparently yes." He smiled at Steve. “Though it consumes a lot of energy and time. It took me more than 15 minutes to heal just one bruise. I have to eat a lot this morning.” Then he remembered something. “Oh yah, Speaking of eating, I’ve brought something.” Stiles said, showing the box he filled with brownies.

“I call dibs!” Clint shouted excitedly.

Everyone watched Clint as he dived for the box. Stiles moved it out of his grasp. Clint pouted at Stiles and was about to make another grab for the box but Jackson growled at him.

“You baked didn’t you? I knew I smell something familiar.” Phil said, smiling at him. Stiles gave the box to Phil. Phil opened it and smiled as took one the he passed it around until everybody has one. Clint happily took two.

“Hmmm… this are really good.” Steve said. Stiles grinned proudly and he just hoped Jackson wouldn’t be an ass enough to call on his feelings or whatever scent he was making.

 “Yes, Shield Brother. This is heavenly, Stiles.” Thor boomed, through a mouthful and was already reaching out for another one.

“My mom's recipe. Best in the world.” Stiles said, proudly. “So where’s Tony? Or am I not allowed to know about that?” Stiles asked.

“He’s here in the Tower. Doctor Banner had him moved yesterday when he was stable.”

“You mean when he woke up 3 hours after the surgery and started bitching about military bedside manners.” Clint said, talking through a mouth full. His cheeks were puffed up full like a chipmunk with an acorn in its mouth.  Two brownies were on his hands.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Coulson said, standing up. “I’ve already discussed your living arrangement with Mr. Stark and Doctor Banner. He had prepared a room for both of you last night. Follow me.”

“Okay, See you guys, and gals.” Stiles said, waving at them. Natasha nodded at him, Steve smiled and waved.

“Thank you for the pastry, Stiles.” Thor said, or more like shouted. Loud seemed to be the god’s default. Clint took the opportunity to swipe the box and run off.

Stiles tuned away from them, his eyes lingering on the smiling super soldier, then they followed his uncle out of the room.

“Lay down the pastry, man of birds!” Thor bellowed.

“Not a chance! I called dibs!” Clint shouted. And Stiles could hear something break. Stiles flinched and he looked at his uncle worriedly.

“I should have bake more.” Stiles said.

There was a crashing sound. Phil sighed tiredly but a smile was on his lips, “Yes, a lot more.”

Their room was more like an apartment, it was two floors down the common room. There was a living room, a modest kitchen and two bedrooms. And everything seemed designed for teenage boys.

"Tony had it done over night." Phil stated nonchalantly, used to Tony-centric amazement. "A thank you for saving his life."

"I'll let you two unpack now, meet me at the common upstairs for briefing on your training. You can call on JARVIS if you need anything." Phil said.

"JARVIS?" Stiles asked.

"Yes, Mr. Stilinski. I am JARVIS an Artificial Intelligence created by Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark had given me the instruction to cater to your and Mr. Whittemore's needs." A disembodied voice from the ceiling (or was it wall?) came through. It startled both teens.

"Wow, this is awesome." Stiles claimed excitedly.

"I'll give you 15 minutes, then." Phil said before he walked out of the room.

15 minutes later, they went back to the common room. There was a distinct lack of the 70 inches television. Natasha and Steve were both reading from their tablet while Thor and Clint were pouting heavily while they sat at the opposite end of the couch, trying to get as far away from each other. Phil was disappointedly eying the two.

"Did both of you broke the TV?" Stiles asked, rhetorically.

"He threw me into it!" Clint said, pointing at the God, who looked extremely offended.

"You run away with the pastry!" Thor whined.

Then, Clint started shouting and Thor started shouting over.

"Enough!" Phil commanded loudly. And both of them stopped, heads hanged down.

"Apologies, Son of Coul." Thor said.

"Yeah, sorry boss." Clint said bashfully. Then he turned to Stiles, grinning. "But you should really make more of those."

“If I had all the ingredients, why not?” Stiles said, shrugging  a bring-it-on shrug.

“Aye, my friend?” Thor asked, hopefully. Stiles nodded positively. Thor and Clint shared sly smiles and abruptly stood up. “Well then let’s see if the pantry is well stocked to your necessity.” Thor said jovially as he stirred Stiles to the kitchen.

Stiles looked wide eyes at his uncle who only shrugged at him, resigning him to the hands of a God and a master assassin. Jackson chuckled at him. Clint pushed him to the countertops.

“I did not come here to be your baker you know.” Stiles said as he searched through the cabinets. He was amazed by how well stocked the kitchen was. It was almost like a mini grocery.

“The avengers tend to consume food more than an average person does.” His uncle explained after he tells them it was like a mini grocery. Stiles turned to him and was surprised to see everyone had moved into the kitchen.

“At this rate I could whip out more than just brownies.” Stiles muttered.

“Can you make those blueberry cheese cake? I saw some blueberries.” Jackson piped up. Stiles checked if they had the ingredients in his head and they did so he agreed.

“You can bake more?” Steve asked, surprised. He did not expect a quirky kid like Stiles would have baking as his hobby.

“Of course, I can.” Stiles said, like it was so obvious.

Thor and Clint excitedly suggested different kinds of pastry over one another. Natasha simply wanted a red velvet chocolate forest. Jackson growled he wanted the blueberry cheesecake.

“Is it really alright for you to bake for them?” Phil asked softly beside him.

Stiles raised a brow at his uncle because hello, these people are the Avengers whose daily job is to **Save The World**. If there was anyone worth baking for it was them. “You know you don’t have to. You can just tell them, ‘No’.”

“It’s okay, Uncle.” Stiles answered honestly.

Steve looked at Stiles. He sensed there was a story behind that exchange, a sad one. Then, as if sensing his thoughts about him,  Stiles turned at him.

“What about you, Captain? What do you want?” Stiles asked.

“I… I’ll have whatever you make.” Steve answered, tightly. It might have been a year since he left the 1940’s but old habits were hard to break. He had been used to only get the barest necessities and even now he can’t keep himself from not indulging to the luxuries of having more money than he ever wanted.

“Com’on Cap, there must be something that you wanted. What’s your favorite pastry?” Stiles asked, openly.

“Uhmm… I…” Everyone turned to stare at him. Steve looked down. “I always wanted to know how a chocolate mousse tastes like.”

“Wait, you never had one before?” Stiles asked.

“No.” Steve admitted. “I never had the money to spend for things like that. We have more necessary things to spend our money.”

“You have the money now, Cap.” Natasha reminded him, letting some concern filter out of her mask.

"Old habits are hard to break." Steve said, shrugging a silent what-can-you-do.

“Right then, I’ll make the best chocolate mousse you’ll ever taste.” Stiles claimed resolutely. Stiles started gathering the things he needed.

"You don't have to… I was just curious." Steve said.

"Nonsense. We Stilinskis consider it blasphemy to turn down our baked goods, you don't want to be blasphemous do you, Cap?" Stiles said. Phil sadly smiled as he remembered how Claudia used to say those words.

Steve looked at the young man a little taken a back but then he just shook his head, amused, and said, "No, I don't."

Stiles beamed at him. "Right then." Stiles said, looking around for the ingredients and rubbing his hands.

"I'll brief you then while you bake." Phil said. Stiles nod. "First is I've set up secure accounts for you to access SHIELD manuals and other necessary information." Phil held up two boxes and gave it to Jackson. "I will personally handle your training regimen and Clint had volunteered to be your instructor and in cases that I'm gone, will be your SO. The others volunteered to part take in your training when they have free time."

“How about our missions?” Stiles asked, cracking eggs.

Phil glared at him. “As I said before, no missions till consenting age.” Stiles pouted at that. Phil sighed because he knew exactly what was going on in his nephew's head. Tell Stiles 'NO, you can't go **Saving the World**.', the next day Stiles _will_ be saving the world. And when Stiles becomes silent, it meant he was plotting something big and equally dangerous for him and everyone around him. He learned through personal experience that Stiles is lot more ingenious and resourceful than he appears to be. "But knowing you, you'll be doing exactly the opposite of what I told you."

Stiles made an offended gasp. "I would never."

Everyone gave him unimpressed look, and the heaviest was Steve’s (it could rival his father's). "Let me remind you of the Wasabi incident." Phil said.

Stiles looked horrified.

"Or the Gummy Bear incident." Jackson quipped. Now Stiles was terrified.

"Jackson! What happens in Junior High stays in Junior High." Stiles hissed venomously. Jackson only smirked at him. Everyone got curious, even Phil was rapt, he did not know this.

"Stiles is addicted to gummy bears." Jackson started.

“Ow. I like those.” Thor said.

“You like anything sweet, edible and zero nutrition value .” Clint said flatly.

“Exactly!” Thor said, grinning.

"Stiles too. Like would be an understatement. When he found some money on the street, he decided to spend it all on gummy bears. But then Scott wants some and Stiles got all protective of it. Scott said he just wanted a few and there was so many Stiles couldn't even finish it on one day. Stiles accepted the challenge and finished the bag."

"So? What’s great about that incident? “Clint asked, clearly unamused.

"It weighs 5 kilos." Jackson said.

“That is plentiful.” Thor said as Clint stared widely at Stiles.

"He spent the next two hours in the comfort room. The teachers got worried and sent him to the hospital. He suffered severe diarrhea and mild dehydration for it."

Stiles angrily chucked a piece of chocolate bar at Jackson who easily snatched it in mid air.  Clint was laughing at Stiles and the rest were clearly amused.

"Traitor." Stiles growled as he mixed the ingredients with a beater. "How was I to know that'll happen."

"You could have just shared with your friend." Steve said, lips were still curled up and amused. Stiles remembered how Steve and his best friend Bucky barely have anything to eat and instantly feel guilty of his actions, even if it happened years ago and has now learned to share everything with Scott.

"I guess it was selfish of me." Stiles admitted guiltily.

"Less talking, more baking." Clint whined.

Stiles rolled his eyes but did what he was told and concentrated on his work.

When he was almost done, he offered Steve a spoonful to taste. "Here try it." Steve took the spoon and put it in his mouth, humming as he tasted the rich taste of chocolate and the other ingredients blended together perfectly. "Is it good?" Stiles was entranced as he watched Steve pulls out the spoon out of his mouth.

"It's great! Really great." Steve said.

“I know.” Stiles said, smugly.

Few minutes after Stiles was sliding the container full of chocolate mousse into the refrigerator to chill. "Just a several more minutes and it'll be good to eat." Stiles closed the refrigerator. Stiles stumbled back from Thor and Clint who were in his personal bubble when he turned around. Both of them looking eager and excited to try the dessert. They drew back and stood straight, smiling excitedly.

"Are you two going to try and steal it when we leave for Tony?" Stiles asked suspiciously.

"No." Both of them said, straight face.

"Ah huh,” Stiles said, totally not believing them. “Then you two won’t mind accompanying me to Tony now, would you?”

“No.” The two said, bummed and pouting.

“Well then, lead the way.” Stiles said, smiling.

“You’re an ass.” Clint told him.

“Who said I wasn’t.” Stiles said, pushing the two away from the refrigerator.

Clint led the way with Thor walking with a little slumped shoulder. Stiles, Coulson and Jackson followed suit.

"Can I come?” Steve asked suddenly. The group stopped in their tracks and turned to look at Steve. “I… I want to observe how you use your magic to heal Tony." Steve smiled hopefully at Stiles. “If it’s okay.”

"Sure." Stiles said like it was given. He means, who would say ‘No’ to Captain America. "I have a few tricks up my sleeves.” Stiles winked at Steve. “Let’s go.”

Steve walked to them and they started walking out of the room. Somehow Clint had roped Natasha to coming with them through a scenario of eye contacts that was a whole different language in the spy world and was now walking beside Steve.

The medical facility was a few floors down the common room. Clint stopped by a room and opened it. Inside was a single bed where Tony was recuperating. Doctor Banner had pulled a chair near his bed. He was resting his head on the bed and seemed to be sleeping while he was holding Tony’s hand.

Steve went over Bruce to gently shake him awake. The doctor slowly stirred and sleepily stared at Steve.

“Tony has a visitor and wants to help him.” Steve said and stepped aside to show Stiles.

The doctor swiftly straightened up and stood up.

“It’s you.” The doctor said. He let go of Tony and walked over to Stiles. He took Stiles hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.” He said extremely grateful. “Thank you so much.”

“Any guy would have done the same if they can.” Stiles said bashful, not used to receive intense gratitude.

“In my experience, not many do. And Steve, he told me it was your first time to use magic, that you didn’t know whether it would work or not. But you still did it and it saved Tony. And in some way…. saved me, too.” The doctor smiled fondly. “And for that I am truly grateful.”

“Uhmm… you’re welcome?” Stiles said awkwardly. The doctor chuckled at him.

“And here I thought no one could be more awkward in dealing with affection than me.” Tony said.

“Mr. Stark-“ Stiles said.

“Please call me Tony. Mr. Stark is my father.” Tony said, smiling brightly despite the bruises on his face and the two big black eyes.

“Tony… I ahh I’m here to help you heal.” Stiles said.

“Right. You had magic.” Tony said, trying to push up his bed. Bruce and Steve helped him.

“I’ll start with the head then the vital organs and then the rest.” Stiles said, moving closer to Tony. Stiles stood on Tony’s left side. “You’ll feel warm and something vibrating softly. That’s fine. It means my magic is working. I’m going to touch you now.”

“Okay.” Tony squeaked.

Stiles reached out and put his right hand on top of Tony’s head while the left touched the forehead.

“ _Epoulothoún_ …” Stiles said, clear and true. He gathered his magic at the palm of his hands, transmuting to light and warmth.

 _Heal. Heal. Heal.,_ Stiles chanted in his head.

His hands started to glow and he let his magic jump from his hand to Tony. He could sense it flowing gently. Then some of it stopped on some kind of impediment. It must be the injuries. Stiles sent more and it crushed those impediments. Stiles could see the bruises and the black eyes started to fade, the bumps dwindled down and slowly Tony was healing. As Stiles gave up more magic, Tony healed more. Stiles was elated to know he was healing Tony faster and better than how he healed himself. It wasn’t that easy yesterday when he did it on himself. It was very taxing. Perhaps, it was because he was using his own magic on himself.

He was barely aware of the awe appearing at the expression of everyone else on the room.

It took about 5 minutes to fully heal Tony and by the end of it Stiles was extremely exhausted. His knees buckled on the last second but someone caught him and he finished the healing with one final push of magic and the glow in his hand faded.

“Thanks.” Stiles said, looking back. He was a bit surprised to see it was Steve but not really.

Steve smiled at him and helped him sit on the chair Bruce previously occupied.

“You said it’ll tire you.” Steve said simply.

“So you made sure you’ll catch me when I falter?” Stiles asked.

Steve shrugged. “I got your back.” He proclaimed and it sounded more like a vow rather than a simple promise.

Stiles felt his heart literally skipped a beat.

“Me too, Cap. I’ll get your back.” Stiles said dreamily and Steve raised an eyebrow at him. Jackson coughed mockingly.  “I mean catch your back. Or front. Or side. Or whichever ways you may falter. Or I’ll try to because that is more than 200 pounds of _insanely_ _hard_ and _well-toned_ muscle of human pinnacle perfection-”

“Oh god.” Jackson said.

Stiles eye widened at what he just said and how he said it. And Steve was blushing furiously. “-and I’m just 100 pounds of pale skin… and fragile bone… hehehe…” He smiled awkwardly at Steve then turned to everyone.  “Who wants some chocolate mousse? I do. I’m so hungry. I could eat everything I made earlier.”

“No!” Clint and Thor shouted and they were out of the room the next second. Stiles could feel Steve staring at him.

“We better get going before those two gobble everything.” Stiles said.

“Yeah-” Steve cleared his throat.  “We should.”

Stiles gingerly stood up and went around Steve awkwardly trying not to touch the said hard and well toned muscle. 

“Hard and well-toned muscle?” Jackson asked, not even trying to suppress his smirk. Stiles shove Jackson but hardly moving him, making the werewolf smirk wider.

“Shut. Up.” Stiles said. He looked back and saw the others following them.  Tony could walk alone yet he shamelessly slung his arms around Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce smiled and wound his arm around Tony’s waist.

When they got to the elevator, Steve stood beside Stiles and Stiles finally sighed with relief. Stiles peeked at Steve through his peripheral vision. Steve caught his gaze and smiled at him. Stiles awkwardly smiled back. Maybe the super soldier was used to people saying those things and Stiles blurting them was just a normal. Besides, Steve wasn’t homophobic. Stiles saw the news that reported Steve supports Tony and Bruce in their relationship and the world just have to deal with him if they got a problem with it.

 When they get back, the Clint and Thor were already on their second serving.

“If you ever dare to take another one, I will _never_ _EVER_ make anything for the two of you.” Stiles said when the two took another one. They slowly and hesitantly put them back on the tray and pouted at Stiles. “Good boys!”

“You made them?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah. They made me make them.” Stiles said as he took two plates. One he gave to Bruce and the other to Steve. And then he served the others.

“Hmm… this is really good.” Steve said and the others agreed. Stiles watched Steve enjoy his mousse like a happy camper. And to see this soldier who lost so much, who gave up his life and who was lost in time, be happy with simple pleasures in life, it struck a chord in Stiles’ heart.

“Yeah, you could be our new baker. You should be our new baker. I’m hiring you as our new baker.” Tony muttered, trying to still from Bruce’s plate. Bruce smiled fondly at Tony and just served him a spoonful. Tony gobbled it hungrily.

Stiles scoffed. “I’m here to train as a SHIELD agent, not to be hired as your baker.”

“But this is really good. Brucie can any food but Brucie can’t do pastries. No offence, love.” Tony said.

“None taken.” Bruce said.

“I could just make them if you ask politely.” Stiles said.

“Not his thing. Tony won’t be Tony without throwing a few thousand dollars like it’s just paper.” Clint said, eyeing the remaining chocolate mousse. Stiles sighed and pushed one to Clint. Thor pouted at that and looked Stiles with puppy eyes. Stiles tried to resist. But he can’t. He gave Thor another one.

“Hmm… about this SHIELD agent thing. Isn’t this a cover up for something else, Agent? What do you call it? The Young Avengers initiative.” Tony said.

“Young Avengers initiative?” Stiles asked.

Everyone looked at the handler. Phil sighed exhaustedly and glared at Tony who only smiled at him. “They won’t be part of the initiative.”

“Why not?” Stiles asked, because the initiative sounded cool.

“Because you only signed up to be SHIELD agents so you can be better prepared when you are dealing with supernaturals in Beacon Hills. You did not signed up to be an Avenger.” Phil said.

“Is that how Fury thinks?” Tony countered.

“I’ve put my foot down on this. What Fury thinks won’t change anything.” Phil said decisively.

“What if I want to join this initiative? It sounded cool.” Stiles asked. His uncle’s glare deepened. “I mean, not now but someday when we have better control of our abilities. You’ve seen what I can do. I’ve been helpful.” He added.

When Phil looked at his nephew’s face, he realized that a dignified and honorable line has shift within Stiles, that a hero complex had ignited somewhere along the ride. Phil can see it in Stiles’ eyes, fiery fire ready to burn through the darkness at any moment. It was scary to find it there, in someone who is family and loved. He knows full well what happens to those people. He had seen it and he sees it every day with his team.

“Stiles this isn’t a joke, you’ll injured. You may even die.” Phil said, sternly.

Stiles huffed mirthless laugh. “And tangling with werewolves was joke?” Phil frowned at that. “I get it uncle. You’re worried. But I’m already in far too deep. Even if what happened yesterday didn’t happen and even if I don’t get into this… initiative, even without training as a SHIELD agent, I’ve already decided. I want to help, especially the supernatural ones.”

Phil sighed. “Alright, I’ll reconsider you joining in the program.” He said, surrendering.

“Yes!” Stiles pumped his fist into the air.

“But-“ Phil cut through Stiles’ celebration. “Not until you master your own abilities, that I have the assurance that you’ll be able to handle yourself out in the field.”

Stiles nodded fervidly.

“Even then, you still have to go back to Beacon Hills in a week. You’re just here for the spring break remember?” Phil reminded him.

“But what if I stay here?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles.” Phil said frustrated.

“Just until the end of the school year. A week of training won’t be good enough to handle Beacon Hills. Or I could totally skip high school. Who needs education. Not me. No, soiree!”

“What about your father?” Phil asked, it was a low blow but he didn’t really want to involve his nephew more than he already is.

Stiles opened his mouth but shut it up. He didn’t want to live his dad alone in Beacon Hills, who knows how much unhealthy, artery clogging food he’d eat without him.

“I’ll talk to him. But if he says yes, I’m in.” Stiles dealt.

Phil nodded, agreeing grudgingly ‘cause if you cannot stop the fight you might as well have the biggest guns.

“If Stiles is staying, I’m staying too.” Jackson stated.

“You don’t have to.” Stiles told Jackson.

“But you’re my pack. I can’t leave you here alone.” Jackson said.

Stiles grinned stupidly. “Sappy Woolf.” He jabbed. Jackson rolled his eye. 

“Hold on.” Steve said.  “This initiative, Director Fury did not tell us about this. What is it exactly?”

“The Young Avenger Initiative is train young remarkable individuals with potentials to be an Avenger in cases the current Avengers fails or retire and to have reliable back up in dire situations.” Phil explained.

Steve’s face turned sour and the other of the Avengers were worried and concerned on varying levels.  

“And when you say young, how old exactly?” Steve asked critically.

“Ideally, 18 and above. But there are existing vigilantes that are clearly underage. We have gathered a list of possible ones. But, we haven’t recruited anyone yet.” Phil said.

“And the youngest?” Steve asked.

“16.” Phil said. Steve scowled at the age. “Cap, this initiative was started because this young superpowered individuals are trying to be a hero but they are inexperienced, untrained. Instead of helping. they becoming more of a nuisance. And often harming themselves in the process. You know them. You’ve seen them on the news, Steve. ”

Phil didn’t need to name them. Superheroes had been the trading headliner for the past year. Young masked avengers trying to save people and make the world a safer place. Steve had researched them after the Chitauri Invasion. When bad guys come out play destruction and chaos, this small time heroes rushed out to stop them. And yes, they are often times hurt and beaten. But when the next bad guy comes, they’ll be there to stop them again.

Phil turned to his Nephew and Jackson, thinking of the many things that may go wrong if they start gallivanting in to trouble without proper training and guidance. It’s not a question of ‘if’, it’s more of ‘when’ because he was sure that they will. “May be you are right, Stiles. You should be in this initiative.”

Stiles beamed at that.

“But they are just… kids.” Steve said, sadly. He was upset that these kids had to put themselves in danger when they shouldn’t have at all. “They shouldn’t have to.”

“No, they shouldn’t. But sometimes, the world needs them to.” Phil said.

The fell silent, waiting for Steve to speak. Out of all of them, Steve have the best moral and ethical compass. Steve took a deep breath and made an announcement. “Then, as Avengers we should be the one to guide them. The team should take part in this initiative to help these kids in any way we can.”  

 “Mentoring children. Time consuming but this should be fun. I’m in.” Tony said and the rest made agreeing notions.

“Okay then, I’ll have to leave. I’ll see you later Stiles.” Phil said, standing up.

“Okay, see yah later.” Stiles said. With that, Phil left. Stiles turned to look around at the Avengers. “So what do we do now?”

“Have you seen the playground?” Tony asked, passively.

“Playground? No. Why?” Asked.

Tony jerk up from his said and flashed a wide exacted grin, rubbing his hands together. Thor and Clint groaned. Natasha and Steve gave to a flat look. And Bruce smiled fondly at his boyfriend. Stiles looked bewildered around at their reaction.

“Should I be scared for my well being because those expressions don’t bode well?”

“No, of course.” Tony said, walking to Stiles. Tony’s was a little to innocent. Stiles gulped worriedly. “Nobody died in there…. well not yet anyway.”

Stiles did not to squeak when Tony touched his shoulders. Really he didn’t. And he would curse anyone who disagrees.


	12. A Call from Beacon Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Jackson had a taste of the domestic habits of the Avengers plus they got a call from Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter because I just had to put this on significant scene that won't fit in with the other chapters.

NOHHHHH!!!” Stiles shouted at the screen. His game score was flashing brilliant loser red. He glared at Tony who was smiling smugly. “I’m a master of this game. I never achieve a score that low since the first time I played it.”

“Excuses.” Tony said.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “You’re cheating. I don’t know how, but I know you are.”

“Am not.” Tony denied, affronted by the notion.

“Jarvis, earlier you said that you would cater to my every need.”

“Yes, I did, sir.” Stiles grinned at that.

“Then, I need you to you to tell me if Mr. Stark has messed up this game for him to win.” Stiles asked politely.

“Mr. Stark had reprogrammed the game so that he would always have the best score every game.”

“JARVIS, How could you betray me?” Tony asked, theatrically.

“Sir, I must remind you that you told to cater to their every needs and whims, and may I quote, “No matter how utterly outrageous it is.””

Tony glared up the ceiling, upset and unimpressed with his AI. “You know what Jarvis, I’m going to reprogram you and get that damn cockiness out of your coding.”

“Of course sir. As you have declared 157 times ago.”

Tony’s nose twitch in irritation but his lips were curving fondly.

Tony turned back to Stiles. “Fine, you want a fair game, I’ll give you a fair game. But don’t say I didn’t warn you would lose. Jarvis bring in my version of Mario Cart.” Tony said, smiling deviously.

Tony’s version of Mario Cart was extreme to say the least. He had made a real life looking cart. It was stationary but it can tilt and move as if it was real and the graphics were intense! Stiles loved it. And of course Tony won the first match. But after that, the lead score was bouncing back and forth between the two.

They only stopped when Clint wanted to start their training. Stiles didn’t want to leave the game and Jackson had to literally pull him away from it and carry his whining ass all the way down the gym. The Avenger tower has its own gym, specially reinforced for super powered individuals. It can almost contain fights between The Hulk and Thor.

When they got there, training clothes were already waiting for them and it fits perfectly. Stiles felt almost naked with them. The pants were especially tight on the hip parts. Stiles asked how they could perfectly. Clint just mysteriously smiled at him and told him that he really didn’t want to know, which only left Stiles even more paranoid. 

Clint taught them basic safe defense. Jackson had been a natural, what with his supernatural speed and strength and reflexes. Stiles suspected werewolves have idyllic memory which could have also helped Jackson. Stiles on the other hand… Let’s just say Clint had handed his ass on a diamond-studded silver platter. He had a lot to improve and he would do his best to be better. Doesn’t mean he can’t cry whine about it, every time occasionally.

Steve, Clint and Natasha left in the afternoon to do scary spy stuffs. They wouldn’t divulge any information about it no matter how hard he tried. He offered 3 pounds of brownies to Clint and he was going to tell but Natasha glared at him. He quickly shut his mouth and walked away, whining “But ‘Tasha. He offered 3 pounds. **3 POUNDS!** ”. Steve patted the Archer’s back sympathetically before he waved goodbye at Stiles and Jackson.  Thor had gone to see Jane while Bruce and Tony had gone to their own separate laboratories. So, Stiles and Jackson spent the rest of day reading SHIELD manuals.

At night, only Tony and Bruce were present. Bruce had made dinner with Stiles helping a little. Stiles had made a simple mango peach pie for dessert and Bruce loved it.

Tony and Bruce decided to turn in early because the penthouse was almost empty and that rarely happened. Tony would like to enjoy it while it lasts, smiling deviously. That was Jackson’s and Stiles’ cue to get the hell out of the floor.

Stiles was comfortably sitting on his bed and reading his magic book when Jackson came to his room carrying two pillows.

“Scoot over.” Jackson ordered.

“You have your own bed you know.” Stiles said, moving aside.

“But you’re not there.” Jackson glared at him as he prepped his pillows.

“I’m just a across room.”

Jackson’s lips curled in distaste. “I can’t hear you. The walls are sound proofed.” He slid in between the blanket moved as close to Stiles as possible. Stiles could hear the small sigh of content escape from Jackson.

“What are you reading?” Jackson asked, peering over the book.

“Theory of magic. It’s the introduction. I skipped it yesterday because I wanted to heal Iron Man.”

“Boring.” Jackson said, yawning. He curled an arm around Stiles abdomen and rested his head on the pillow. Stiles scoffed indignantly because nothing about magic will ever be boring.

“Whatever. Just wait till I kick your ass using my ‘boring’ magic.” Stiles hissed with no real heat.

Jackson made a sound of disagreement but he snuggled closer and mumble to Stiles shut up and let him sleep.

Stiles rolled his eyes and put down the book. He would read early tomorrow. He slid down until he was comfortably being cuddled by his beta.

 

Stiles was shaken awake by Jackson.

“Wha-what? Are we under attack?” Stiles asked jerkily jumping out of his bed. Jackson caught him before he hit the floor and flatten his face.

“Calm down. We’re not under attack.” Jackson said calmly as he sat Stiles back on the bed. “You’re phone is ringing.” Jackson gave Stiles his phone.

Stiles looked at the screen and saw Erica was calling him. He immediately answered.

 “Hey, Erica. What’s wrong? Is Derek dying again?” Stiles asked worriedly.

“What? No.”

“Is it Scott? Was he kidnapped. Oh my god, Is he-is he? Don’t tell-“

“Stiles! Nobody has been kidnapped, nobody is dying and nobody is dead. Breathe.” Erica said firmly.

Stiles took a deep rugged breath. Jackson had a hand around his shoulders, whispering that everyone is safe and that everything is okay.

“Is that Jackson?” Erika asked disbelieving who she was hearing on the end of the line. “I can’t believe this.”

“Yes. It’s him.”

“But you hate him.”

Jackson moved away from him. A ghosted look shrouded his face.

“Hated.” Stiles corrected. Stiles reached out and shook Jackson’s shoulder. “But now, we’re good.” Stiles smiled encouragingly at Jackson. Jackson smiles back weak but there’s hope that they’ll be over it in the near future. “We’re gonna be better.”

“I still don’t believe it.”

“Hey, weirder things happened.”

“Okay, then why did you call?”

“I’m your room and you’re not here. Where are you?”

“Away from Beacon Hills. Why are you there? Is something wrong?”

“No, We’re fine. We just want to thank you about last time so we decided to give something in return.”

“We?”

“Me and Boyd. We’d like to personally thank you.”

“No biggie.”

“No. It’s not a ‘no biggie’, Stiles. Chris Argent told us you threatened to ram your jeep into him if he didn’t let us go. You love that jeep Stiles. It was your mom’s.”

“How did you know that?” Stiles asked, surprised anyone besides knew who previously own his jeep and why he was extraordinarily attached to the hangkajunk.

“I did have a crush on you before. And I’m sorry for wrecking it and hitting you with its parts.”

“Uhm yeah right, about that crush thing…” Stiles started awkwardly.

Erica laughed at the other end of the line. “Don’t worry about that Batman, I’m totally over you. Besides I’ve got Boyd now.”

“You and Boyd? Really?”

“Yes, you have a problem with inter-racial couples.” Boyd came in suddenly.

“Me? No? I’m all for love equality.”

Stiles heard Boyd say ‘Good’.

“So does this mean we’re friends now?” Stiles asked cautiously.

“Unconventional and due to near death experience. Why not?” Erica said.

“Yeah, why not?” Boyd echoed.

Jackson tapped Stiles’ shoulder. “Can I talk to them?” Jackson asked timidly.

“Ah. Sure. Erica, Boyd, Jackson want to talk to you.” Stiles slowly handed over the phone. Jackson put the call on loudspeaker.

“Hey, it’s Jackson.” Jackson started. The other line was silent. “I… I want to apologize. I’m sorry for calling you names and making you feel little. I’m sorry for everything bad that I ever did to either of you. I’d understand if you won’t be able to forgive me. But I’m hoping that you’d give me a chance. Would you two forgive me?”

There was a long stretch of silence before the phone crackled with Erica’s voice. “You’re an asshole, Whittemore…. But if Stiles can forgive you, why can’t I? But if you ever do it again, I’ll cut your balls and shove it down your throat.”

Jackson sighed in relief.

“Thank you. I promise I won’t. Boyd?”

“Just don’t do it again, Whittemore.”

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah were good.” Boyd answered softly.

Jackson handed back the phone to Stiles.

“We got to go, Stiles.” Erica said.

“Oh okay. Call me if you need anything. And keep me posted on whatever is happening there. We’ll find a way to help, okay?”

“We’ll do batman. Later.” Erica said and the she ended the call.

“This actually feels good." Jackson said. Stiles looked up at Jackson who was smiling softly. “Being able to apologize for your past mistakes, it takes off this massive weight on your shoulders.”

“Good. That’s good. And make sure you keep that promise because Erica will surely get back on her threat.”

Jackson smiled at that. “I made a promise. They can hold me to it.” Jackson laid back down on the bed. “Come on let’s go back to sleep.”

Stiles let himself fall back on the soft mattress and let the werewolf curl around his leaner body.             


	13. Worked Up and Worked Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there's a bit of training, a little confession, some fluffy pancakes and needles. God, Stiles ABHORES needles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I hope this will suffice until I can get my act right and make the proper continuity you all deserve. I might have layed it too thick here. Sorry but not sorry. At all.

It wasn’t even dawn when Phil called Stiles to get up because he had cardio training. Stiles bleakly listened to his uncle as he tried to untangle from a very cuddly ~~octopus~~ werewolf. He fell off the bed when Jackson suddenly let go of him. He swore Jackson did it on purpose. He could hear him snickering silently.

Stiles went to the small living space outside their bedroom, listening absently as his uncle went on his training schedule. He flopped head first on the sofa and made a happy noise behind his throat.

“You’re flopped on the sofa, aren’t you?” Phil asked.

“Yeah.” Stiles answered.

“And you barely listened to what I said.”

“Yeah.”

Stiles could hear the heavy yet fond sigh from his uncle. “I’ll just send in Steve then to fetch you.”

“Okay.”

“Captain America will fetch you, Stiles. Be ready.” Phil reiterated sternly. Stiles really should have listened to his uncle but he was far too sleepy to care for any scolding he would definitely suffer the next time he meets up with his uncle. He barely noticed his uncle saying goodbye.

After his uncle hanged up, Stiles fell back asleep the following second.

Stiles heard a knock on the door and promptly ignore it in favor of getting more sleep. But it was clear that whoever was behind the door wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon if the insistent knocking was anything to go by.

Stiles stretched and got up. Yawning, he opened the door. Stiles paused mid yawn when he recognized just who was in front of me.

“Oh fuck me.” Stiles cursed, remembering his uncle’s words. Steve looked startled and begun to blush. Stiles grimaced at what he said. “I mean Good Morning, Cap.”

“Good morning.” Steve greeted back.

“Come in!” Stiles stepped aside to let the super soldier in. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I did not mean to make you wait. It’s just that I was not actively listening to Phil when he told me you were coming to fetch me. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Stiles.” Steve said, calmly and can’t help smiling at the teen. Stiles walked backwards to his room, telling Steve to wait for him, that he would just change, that it would take just a minute and wouldn’t take long.

“Stiles, behind-” Steve tried to warn the younger teen. But then Stiles stumbled over the sofa. “-you.”

Stiles swiftly got up. “I’m okay.” He said before he dashed to his bedroom. He hurriedly search for his jogging attire.

“What’s going on?” Jackson asked as he watched Stiles digging through his clothes.

“Jogging with Cap.”

“I see.” Jackson said all-knowingly.

“What’s that tone supposed to mean?”

“What tone?” Jackson asked innocently.

Stiles glared at the werewolf languidly stretched out on his bed.

“That tone! Like I’m going to do something explicitly nasty.”

“Weren’t you?” Jackson challenged.

“No.” Jackson just raised a perfectly thick eyebrow, unimpressed. Stiles groaned. “Maybe. But I won’t because Uncle Phil will have my balls. Not to mention the entire country. I’m not that suicidal.”

“Like that will ever stop you.”

Stiles pointed a very offended finger at the werewolf.

“Don’t even bother denying it.” Jackson cut in before Stiles could even start to defend himself. “If you have a small amount of self-preservation, you wouldn’t have trailing after Lydia all these years. Or the fact that you looked for dead bodies in the woods. Not to mention chasing after me when I was a kanima.”

“Fuck you, dude. I have a good instinct for self-preservation. The world, fate or whatever just doesn’t respect that.”

Jackson snorted. “Whatever. I’m going back to sleep.”

Fully clothed, Stiles jogged back to the living room.

“I’m ready.” Stiles declared. Steve nodded and they made their way to the elevator.  “How come I’m the only one? How about Jackson?

“Jackson’s is basically unknown. Agent Coulson wanted to establish a base line data to create an appropriate, individualized training program for him. He’ll be working with Bruce and Tony later to run some test with him like they did with me. Which is to figure my weakness and how to overcome it. They store the data in a secure server that only Tony and Bruce can access.”

“This is still so unfair. It’s spring break. I should be sleeping like there’s no tomorrow.” Stiles said.

Steve smiled at the whining teen. Maybe he should have gotten him a cup of coffee before he came knocking at his door.

Outside the tower, Steve and Stiles stretched and warmed up. Stiles couldn’t help but ~~stare~~ glance at Steve. Because, damn, everything just _fits_ perfectly with the soldier and it was hard not to ~~stare~~ appreciate that fine specimen, especially with way his clothes clings like a second skin.

“Ready?” Steve asked.

“Me? I was born ready!” Stiles jumped on his heal just to show it. “I’ll race you.”

Steve smirked at him, amused.

 

“Now that wasn't so bad.”  Steve exclaimed cheerfully at the breathless teen. They were back at the front of the tower.

Stiles huffed forcefully.

“You run past me. For 10 times.” Stiles pointed out dryly. He felt so cheated. He only made 5 laps around the park in 30 minutes. When he paused to think about it, he actually did more than what average people can do. But still, his lanky form could not go much faster. He should have thought better than to challenge a super soldier to a race. Like seriously. It was an insane idea on his part.

“Let's get back to the tower. We'll eat breakfast then we'll hit the gym.” Steve said.

“Do we have to?” Stiles groaned.

“It's on your training regimen.” Steve said matter-of-factly. They entered the tower and rode the private elevator that only the residents of the tower and a few individuals could use.

“So... Is that how far you usually run every morning or did I slow you down?” Stiles asked, curiously.

“It was shorter than usual.”

“I knew it. I’m sorry if I ruined your routine.”

“It's okay. At least I have company this time.”

“Don't the others run with you?” Stiles asked.

Steve smile tightly as he shook his head. “They're too busy doing their own thing. But sometimes Clint tags along.” Steve's voice was even but Stiles could pick up the little tone of sadness in them.

"I'll run with you then. If you want to and if don't mind me slowing you down." Stiles offered, sinceriously.

The elevator dinged and the door opened.

Steve looked at him and smiled brightly. "Sure, I'd like that." Steve said, stepping out. Stiles' grin was ear to ear. He was feeling very excited until he realized he'd have to wake up early. Everyday.

_Oh well. Who wouldn't want to be running buddy with an Avenger?_

"I'll do the pancakes!" Stiles exclaimed, already taking out the ingredients he needs.

Steve just watched in confusion as Stiles took out strawberries and blueberries. And the insane amount of eggs. And when Stiles manically smiled and rubbed his hands, he did the sane thing to do. He moved away and kept a safe distance. Agent Coulson did say the young man managed to detonate a birthday cake.

It was a wonder how Stiles move effortlessly from one task to another. Whisking here. Stirring there. It was not long before a sweet smell of pancake permeated the air.

"Good morning..." Jackson said as he walked across the kitchen and stood behind Stiles. "I knew I smelled blueberries."

"Take a seat. It won't be long.” Stiles said whisking furiously.

Some sizzles after, Stiles stacked three pieces of blueberry pancakes. He put some whipped cream and dripped a liberal amount of maple syrup. He slid it on the table.

Jackson immediately dig in.

"I feel offended. You're cooking and you didn't invite me." Clint said.

Stiles rolled his eyes but he was already stacking a plate for Clint. "We woke up early for a morning run. Besides, I'm not your mom."

Stiles placed the plate full of pancakes in front of Clint.

"Maybe you should be. Then, Steve can be our dad." Clint said, casually. A little too innocent as far as Stiles could tell. The master archer happily cut his pancake.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the archer. Clint munched his food like a happy camper. Stiles was about to ask something when the God of Thunder **_boomed_ A VERY GOOD MORNING.**

"Clinton said Stiles was making breakfast!?!" Thor asked excitedly. His eyes immediately zeroed on the food Clint was eating. Clint overtly moved his plate closer to him and away from a very hungry looking God who will mostly steal it if he wasn’t very cautious. "Is that pancake? With blueberries?"

Thor grinned at Stiles.

"I also made strawberries."

"Can I have both?" Thor asked, hopefully.

"Sure..." when Stiles turned back, he almost dropped the plate. Natasha was suddenly standing behind Clint.

An amused smile was playing on her lips. "I'll have the strawberry."

"God, don't do that." Stiles hissed.

"Do what, My Friend?" Thor asked, taking his plate excitedly from Stiles.

"Not you, Natasha and her suddenly proofing out of air technique. First Derek, now you. I'm going to have a heart attack." Stiles said. Stiles wants to glared at her but he was afraid of what she might do to him if he ever so much as try to.

"No luck there, kid." Tony said coming from the living room with Bruce at his hip. "Might as well carry a handheld AED. Oh Blueberries!" Tony took a seat beside Jackson who growled at him when he tried to take a piece.

"Right, no stealing foods from hungry werewolves." Tony said backing away.

Stiles prepared their food and gave it to them and soon only he and Steve were the only ones who weren't eating.

"Here." Stiles said handing Steve a plateful of pancake. "I figured you'd like a chocolate one."

Steve was surprised Stiles made a different flavor for him. "Thank you." Steve said smiling shyly. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I want to.” Stiles said, winking.

Steve took a bite.

"So how is it?" Stiles asked.

"It's amazing." Steve said, laughing as some chocolate syrup drips on his lips.

Stiles was high and stoned and all fluffy warm feelings. It's like winning a noble peace prize every time he made Steve smile.

 

Later, Stiles and Jackson went to Bruce's lab with Tony. Natasha and Steve was also there to make sure they wouldn't end up creating a werewolf epidemic at the end of the day. Stiles was sure his uncle sent them since he can't. Stiles wondered where his uncle could be. Probably way beyond his clearance level. Hopefully not somewhere dangerous. Clint and Thor had come also since it was a _'slow day'_ and there was nothing else to do.

"Stiles, can lycanthropy be passed through blood?" Bruce asked, a syringe on hand.

"Derek didn't say anything about that. But from my researches, it's highly possible."

"Are there other ways?" Tony asked who was fiddling with a treadmill. "Like being clawed, spit, etc?"

"Claw, No. Spit? Nah, Scott has been playing tonsil hockey with his girlfriend and she's still human."

"Tonsil hockey?" Steve queried.

"It's like French kiss, Cap. Only wetter, deeper and a lot sloppier. Like that one time you barged into my workshop." Tony explained happily. Steve visibly flushed. _Now that was a story to tell_ , Stiles thought. Steve cleared his throat.

"Anyway, I've read a legend and I've come across it multiple time. So I think it might be true. According to this legend, a man can take the form of a wolf when he drinks from a puddle made of a wolf's paw print. Werewolves of this origin can fully control their wolf, can even shift into a full wolf form. They don't have bloodlust or any violent urges." Stiles said.

"Is there a way to cure it?"

"Two. And both are extremely dangerous. It either cures you or it kills you." Stiles said seriously.

Jackson perked up at the statement.

"There's a cure?" Jackson asked.

"There is but as I said. It's extremely dangerous."

"What is it then?"

"Wolfsbane and moonstone."

"Wolfsbane... Isn't that poisonous to werewolves." Jackson asked.

"Yes, that's why it can kill you. But given the right procedures and the right time, you can use it to unwerewolfy a werewolf."

"How do you use it then?" Steve asked.

"First thing to consider is the timing. You can only use wolfsbane potion to newly bitten wolves who hasn't gone through their first moon. Otherwise, it'll be just as poisonous as any other wolfsbane. So you take wolfsbane flower that had grown over a werewolf's foot print. Which is actually not that very difficult to find. Then you burn it and the ashes from it, take that and dissolve it in water. There were tips that it should be taken before the new moon during the day when the wolf's spirit is at its weakest."

"And the moonstone?" Steve prompted.

"Well... The moonstone can work two ways. One way is it gives the person the ability to complete control his shift. Another is to completely remove the 'wolf spirit from the soul of the shifter' and trap it into the moonstone."

"But? I can definitely see there's a big ‘but’ right there." Clint said.

"When is it never there?" Bruce asked, cleaning his glasses.

"There might be a big chance that it'll suck in your soul as well."

"And that's why I hate magic." Tony declared.

“You just hate anything that defies the laws of physics.” Bruce said.

“And you don’t?” Tony asked Bruce.

“It depends on how people use it. If it can calm the other guy, who am I to say no?”

Bruce smiled sadly as he turned back to check on the readings of an apparatus. Tony pouted and played with his hand before he gives up and gave Bruce a loving reassuring hug. Tony and Bruce made Jackson go through several equipment. They made him run, jump, make him pee (Tony wanted to observe that, but Bruce pulled him back by the ear. "It was for science! Who knows how they pee? Shut up, Stiles.  Quit laughing.”) And whole lot more. Stiles just stand as far away as possible. There was far too much blood extraction for him than his comfortable with.


	14. Tip Top Shape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of training and a little heart to heart talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the very very long hiatus. I lost my memory card that contains the updated version of this chapter and beyond. My back up is in my computer but my computer broke down so there's that. It took a couple of months to save up to get this damned computer fixed. 
> 
> Anyways hope that was reasonable to not being able to update. And thanks for those who kept waiting for this installment and especailly to those who reread this entire shinigan. 
> 
> I promised to try to update every other week because I have a full time work now.

Training was hell. There was no other way to describe it. At the end of the week, Stiles was sore at place he never even knew existed and could terribly feel that way.

Natasha was a slave driver and she never held back. She was as beautiful a woman but she was no damsel in distress. The first and the only time Stiles ever imply that she was some kind of a delicate flower, his ass had came crushing down harder than the London Bridge. Clint laughed at him like there was no tomorrow.

But, Natasha had taught him how to use his enemies’ strength and larger difference in size against them, that it was not just about the amount of power but rather how you use that power. She showed him how to counter brute force with a perfectly aimed block. Her feet glided like a graceful ballerina and her hands strikes like the spider her alias came from. She was lethal.

And it didn’t hurt, though ~~quite~~ outright scary, that Natasha has vast knowledge of handheld weapons. When Natasha showed him her wide array of daggers, Stiles almost bolted right out of the room and stayed impossibly still on his heels. But that might be because Natasha started throwing daggers like darts with an impeccable accuracy. He didn’t want any of said deadly weapon imbedded in any part of his body. He might actually peed in his pants and back several feet away from the master assassin.

Clint had given him plenty of tips on how to spot advantages, how to make an opening, recognize fighting styles and patterns. He pointed out when Stiles leaves an opening on his defense.

Clint had introduced him to parkour and Stiles sucked at it. The free running part was A-OK. He’d been doing that for the past months from hairy, blood-lust raving creatures of the night. It was the jumping and climbing on walls and buildings he had difficulty. Sue his klutzy bones. It was genetic. His mother was worse. Phil told him stories and some of them were quite horrifying and equally fascinating to hear. Good thing he was a lot more proficient in healing magic. It got pretty messy onwards.

Clint had taken a shine on Jackson. They were always partnered when sparring. Sometimes they would go to the shooting range and practice catching an arrow on mid air. Stiles had let it slip that hunters uses bow and arrow when hunting werewolves. Clint decided to turn that against them. If Jackson could catch Clint’s arrows, he can catch everybody else’s. Tony made him an impenetrable helmet just to be safe.

Most of the time, Jackson glared at Clint. Sometimes he could see the werewolf laughing at something the archer said. See?!? Progress! Sometimes both of them disappear for a few hours and they came back covered in dust with Jackson scowling and Clint smirking at the way the werewolf was furiously brushing the dust off his shoulders. Stiles was curious what they were up to but Jackson just glared at him while Clint laughed harder.

Sometimes, Stiles would see Clint pat Jackson on the head or mess his hair and in those times the archer would say, “You did well.” Of course Jackson shoved him off and glared but there was no real heat in them.

Steve had taken Stiles under his wing, pun intended. He spent most of his training with Steve rather than Clint who was his actual SO (Supervising Officer).

Steve had a thing for martial arts or any kind of physical attack that will require his optimum strength and body mechanics and His Shield. Especially _his shield_. Kick boxing was Steve’s favorite and by favorite, Stiles meant lethal way of making someone scream painfully. Not that Steve like making someone scream painfully. But it was kind of Steve’s default fighting style and he was really proficient at it. Steve taught it to Stiles. He also taught him other fighting styles.

Few days after they started training, they fell in a routine where Steve picks him up at exactly 5 in the morning. Never late and never early. Steve would bring a cup of coffee every time and Stiles was more than grateful for that.

Sometimes when they spar, Stiles would just lay there and give up and just stay still in the position where Steve beat him. Sometimes, he would collapse on top of Steve, take a few seconds to recover and just enjoying not moving for a moment. And Jackson would knowingly look at him with two pefectly unimpressed eyebrows. Stiles would stared right back and moan how tired he was. So sue him. Jackson would roll his eyes like the diva he really is and pray to forget how big of a bullsh*t that was.

Of course, there were occasional Assemble calls and the Avengers would respond immediately. Stiles self-appointed himself to make some kind of refreshment and offer it to them whenever they arrive. He also offered to heal them. Steve declined remembering how much it taxed Stiles. Stiles quickly dismisses such reason. He needed to train and build up his magic. Besides, it was the least he could do for what the Avengers were doing for them.

Stiles taught Jackson how to take someone’s pain. Clint took a special liking to this ability and he moaned obscenely whenever Jackson used it on him. _(You get kinda high during the pain drain.)_ And funny thing was Jackson would flush really red. Like tomato red. Stiles wonders… Of course, Clint had moaned far too loud. And of course, Steve cleared his throat like the gentleman he was and reprimanded the archer from doing such things in front of minors. Not that it stopped Clint from whispering some things that made Jackson blush oh so red. Stiles was afraid he might actually explode.

He also reads his magic book every night for a least two hours or when he has free time. He practices the verbal and mental spells as he goes through. He also becomes very adept in fire extinguishing spells. (Might have something to do with him burning his bed a few times).

He called Jayson for some advice and subtly (but not really) asked him what are the best spells if he accidentally run into a deranged supervillain.

"You're gearing up for a superhero gig, aren't you?"

"What? Me? Nah. I just want not to be anybody's meal."

"Don't play coy with me Stiles. I've heard about the Doctor Doom incident."

"Arghh fine. Okay, I am trying to train to be one. So any tips?"

"I'd probably start with teleportation, although it'll be tricky but the benefit is invaluable. If not, telekinesis. Then, Elemental magic."

"Okay, do you have any books on magic and magical creature?"

"I might still have a few."

"Great, I'll stop by tomorrow and pick them up."

 

 

Stiles collapsed on the mat, trying to catch his breath. Every inch of his body was screaming of exhaustion and pain. Even though Steve was trying his best not to overwhelm Stiles or put too much force in his attacks, he encouraged Stiles to not hold back on his attack on him. And it was hard. It was like punching a tree. He knew exactly what that was like and he totally blames Scott for it.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked looking down at the teen.

Stiles huffed loudly. “I’m _not_ okay. I’m dying. There are places in my body that I never knew existed are hurting like a motherfucker.” Stiles complained.

“Language.” Steve reprimanded absentmindedly. He knows that it’s common nowadays to cuss like it was nothing and it really was but there’s a bone-seeded motherly teaching that it was bad.

Stiles flounders an apology. He had completely forgotten to run his defective brain-to-mouth filter again.

“It’s fine. Just… tone it down.” Steve said, sitting beside the younger man.

Stiles huffed forcefully before he pulled himself into a sitting position. Stiles looked at Steve. He tries to looks right past the proclaimed hero, the one who saves the world. He saw someone else. A man out of time. A man who was yanked out of everything he was familiar with and was forced to live in a place almost completely different from his own.

If it were him in Steve’s place, he might actually go insane. But Steve managed to integrate himself in this era. There are times when Stiles catches Steve lost and confused and even more confused when it comes to references and certain words. But Steve is nothing but a fighter and he pushed through obstacles head on. He’s there and he’s getting the hang of it.

Steve faced him and caught him staring. Stiles swiftly turned away and

“Is something you want to tell me, Stiles?” Steve asked.

“No! I mean yes. But never mind. It’s nothing really important.” Stiles shaking his head.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “But there is something. Tell me.” Steve encouraged with that assuring smile of his.

Stiles looked up and was caught up in Steve’s gaze. “I think you’re amazing.” Stiles said, softly. Steve blinked surprised. He had encountered those words for many times from all sorts of different people. But coming from Stiles and the way he said it, Steve felt his heart skipped for a beat and something in his stomach flutters. It was as if Stiles was talking to _him_ , Steve Rogers, and not the hero who saved the world. “If it was me, I would have gone insane. But you carried on. I…. I noticed sometimes you falter, like you’re a bit dazed and confused, but you push though despite looking a bit… you know… not very smart. Not that you are not very smart. Because you are very smart.”

“I know what you mean, Stiles.” Steve said, smiling.

“If there’s anything you need, Steve, don’t hesitate to ask me. Okay?” Stiles offered genuinely.

“Okay, and the offer goes to you as well.” Steve said. “By the way, what was your father's response?” Steve asked.

“Response to what?” Stiles asked.

"You staying here." Steve prompted.

“Oh.” Stiles finally getting what Steve was referring to. Stiles hadn't called his dad. With the training, the occasional post-battle aiding and his own magical escapades, Stiles had pushed back his talk with his dad to the least priority. Stiles chuckles nervously. “I might have, not on purpose, put it on hold. You know training and stuffs, I forgot about it. Hehe.”

“Stiles.” Steve sighs and looks at him with those disappointed eyes that surpasses his dad's effect.

“I'm going to call him now.” Stiles get up, smiling sheepishly.

“You do that.” Steve watched the young man leave, feeling kind of in a haze and a bit lonely. _Why would he even feel that?_


	15. Bread Crumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally talked with his father about staying in New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, after a very long time here an update. I finally had a long down time, enough to write this. It's a bit short so don't get too excited. hopefully I get more down time from work so I could write more. Thanks to everyone who waited patiently for this story.

Stiles looked at the phone he was holding. It was showing the contact number of his dad. He had been pacing his room for quite some time now.

“Just tell him the truth, Stiles.” Jackson suggested who was sitting on Stiles’ bed. The werewolf went to find him the minute Stiles decided to call his dad. He had heard the anxiety in his heartbeat and checked on him if something was wrong.

Stiles glared at him. “Do you want him to have a heart attack? He’s old you know. His heart can’t take this kind of news.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. But he got it. This was a whole lot different than your average teenage revelations. “He’s the Sheriff, Stiles. He has been living a high stress life for years now. I’m sure he can take it.”

Stiles shook his head. His relationship with his dad was not good to say the least. He _was_ treading water with this reestablished bond. It was tenuous to begin with, even before he started looking for dead bodies in the woods. He didn’t want to risk it.

Jackson instantly felt guilty. The sadness and anxiety coming from Stiles was sharp and strong. It compelled him to do something. He reached out and took Stiles’ hands onto his.

The younger man looked down at him. Jackson cleared his throat before he spoke.  “I’m sorry. I had a…. different upbringing than you. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay. Besides, Dad deserves the truth.”

“Then, why don’t you start telling him parts of the truth.” Clint suggested.

Stiles jumped at his voice.

“Holy shit!!! How long were you there?!? Jesus, this just keeps happening. Warn a guy sometimes!” Stiles clutched his chest. Clint’s smirk only grew bigger. He looked at his beta who was trying not to laugh. “And you didn’t even bother to inform me someone was lurking outside my room.”

“He told me not to. Said it was part of werewolf spy training.” Jackson defended.

Stiles glared harshly at Clint. “Now that’s just bullshit.”

The archer shrugged.

“Unbelievable… But what do you mean by parts of truth isn’t just that technically lying by omission.”

“Not when you’re trying to give enough for him to digest so he wouldn’t have a heart attack. Give him some bread crumbs. Just enough for him to follow where you actually are. Just enough for him to know that you didn’t just abandoned him. Not on purpose anyway.”

Stiles realized it a good advice. “That actually sounds good. I’ll try it.”

“I’ll just be outside.” Jackson says. He didn’t need to say he as just one call away, but it hanged genuinely in the air. Jackson and Clint left the room. He knows they will be listening. But he doesn’t mind.

There were so many things jumping in his head. He need to catch the important ones, the ones his dad needed to hear. He took a deep breath before he dialed his dad. He felt his heart pounding as he heard his father’s ringtone.

“Hey dad.” Stiles greeted.

“What did you do?” The Sheriff asked.

“Can’t I just call my dad to say ‘hi and I miss you’?”

John huffed. “Did you now?”

Stiles squawked indignantly. “Yah...well no... but I do miss you, Dad.” Stiles said honestly.

“I miss you too, Stiles.” Stiles could hear the smile in his father’s voice. “Now tell me what you really wanted to say.” And there came the Sherriff’s voice. Stiles huffed nervously. _Time to come out clean_.

“I… ahh… want to stay here. Like longer and live and go to school kind of stay.”

“Why?”

“I think… I’ve got a good thing going here and I want to keep doing it while I can. I kind of joined a group-”

“Are you doing drugs?” Sherriff asked.

“What? No! It’s kind of a group for all kinds of people who wants to make the world a safer and better place. Uncle Phil is in it too.”

“You’re not doing drugs?” His dad asked, unbelieving.

“No… Wh-why would you think I’m doing drugs?”

Stiles can hear his father’s suffering sigh.

“If this is about after the game… can you give more time? I’ll talk about it. I promise. Just… give me more time.” The line became silent for few seconds. Stiles wanted to bite his nails. He bit his nails.

"This is a pretty big decision, kid. Are you sure about this?"

"I am, Dad. Let me try for this school year and if doesn't work out. I'll come back. I promise."

 “Okay. May be it’s for the best for you to stay there for now. I’ll make calls to arrange your transfer.”

“Okay, Thanks Dad.”

“Take care of yourself, Stiles. Don’t worry your Uncle too much.”

“I’m won’t. Bye, Dad. I love you.”

“Love you too, kid.” Sherriff Stilinski hanged up.

Stiles puffed a relieved breath. His dad agreed. He was going to stay. He could now feel the weight of his decision. The decision to change his life, to be stronger, to be a part of something bigger than himself. Stiles take a deep breath to reel in the panic attack. He would not be conquered by the fear of the unknown. He could do this. He would do this.

It felt good, Stiles realized. He might not have completely came out clean but he wanted this. He wanted to do good from now on.

Stiles went out of his room and face Jackson and Clint. Clint grinned widely.

“We better tell the others.” Clint said, cheerily. “JARVIS, tell everyone to meet us in the common room.”

“You’re not even going to pretend to ask me how’d it go?” Stiles asked sarcastically.

“Welcome to the Avenger life, kid.” Clint hailed, cracking a devious smirk but his eyes were delighted. He slung his arms over their shoulders and stirred them out of his room. “Now bake me something to celebrate this occasion.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but he was already thinking of few things he could whip up on the spot.

 

Stiles did not need to tell anyone. They all heard about it already somehow. Everyone welcomed Sties and Jackson to the team. Although only as an inactive, for-future-and-emergency-purpose-only member, they felt elated to be part of the fold.

His uncle and Natasha didn’t make it. They were in a mission but they managed to video call for a few minutes.

There was a bit of debate whether they would continue to stay at the tower given they'll go to a public school. Phil suggested they move back to their house.

Thor and Clint immediately said "Nay."

Tony quickly dismissed the idea, denouncing its existence. Tony could amply provide for two teenagers. "Besides, they are already Avengers-in-training. They might as well live here."

Phil agreed. He promised to sort out the details when he gets back.

It was also the time Stiles finally met Pepper Potts. The strawberry haired woman came in when Stiles was handing out smoothies.

“What’s this new recruits I heard about from Phil?” Pepper demanded to know.

“Pepper!” Tony interjected immediately. _He better do something to put him in her good grace or he’ll suffer under her wrath for the next hours_. “Meet the person who saved my ass and helped my recovery, Stiles Stilinski.”

Pepper looked at Stiles, surprised to see him. The grateful smile on her lips was genuine. She took his hands and squeezed them gratefully. “Thank you for saving, Tony. What you did was incredibly brave.”

“It was nothing. Smoothie? It’s lemon, zested with orange and spiked with lime.” Stiles said handing her one. Pepper looked around and seeing everyone else were enjoying their drink, she took a sip. She made a pleased hum.

“This is good. Who made this?”

“I did.” Stiles piped.

Pepper made a surprised noise.

“And he also bakes.” Tony thrown in.

“We should hire him.” Pepper said.

“Already tried. He won’t take it. Said he’d do it for free if we asked nice enough.” Tony said, sounding still peeved by Stiles’ decision. Like it personally offended him that someone wouldn’t accept a job he offered. He pouted at Pepper. Pepper just raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him.

“You can’t buy everyone, Tony.” Pepper shook her head fondly. “So you are Phil’s nephew? I didn’t know Phil have any relative.”

“I didn’t know my uncle was a super secret agent in a super secret agency. So…” Stiles shrugged his shoulders.

Pepper looked at the kids. Then she realized with a paralyzing fear that they were the new recruits. She gasped, unbelievingly. “Oh my god. Tony, they are just kids!” Pepper said angrily.

“Miss Potts.” Steve called softly. Pepper stilled and turned to Steve, but her eyes were trained on the kids. “We’ve already discussed this with Agent Coulson. He made sure we have all the necessary protocols to keep them safe and far from the wrong people.”

“But they are just kids.”

“Yes, we know, Peps.” Clint move to her side. “Let me talk to you for a sec.” He said, already stirring her away from the kitchen.

Clint signed with a flare of his hands for them to continue and he with Pepper went to the common room.

Stiles would look every now and then at the two talking. He can see how stressed Miss Potts is with the situation. Clint was holding up a phone. Jackson told him that Natasha was on the other line, explaining things to Pepper.

Stiles felt an arm on his shoulders. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” said Tony, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Why don’t we start doing lunch while we wait for Pep’s verdict?”

“You mean I and Bruce cook our ass off while you wait to be fed?” Stiles mocked without heat.

“Hey, you said ask nicely so...” Tony grinned and patted his shoulders in an almost mocking encouragement.

Pepper and Clint came back while Stiles was

“This just won’t do, Tony. They should be insured. I want a five-year college plan for this two. A premium medical care.”

“Peps, tell you what. Write everything you want and I’d sign it.”

“You damn well do, Tony.” Pepper glared him until he agreed. Then, she turned to the young boys. She took Stiles and Jackson’s hands. “I have to go. I have a meeting to attend to in a minute. If you two need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. JARVIS will give you my personal contact. I’ll get in touch with Phil and I may even consult Jen with this.”

Jackson could hear genuine honesty of her offer like a cozy blanket on a chilly night. “We will.” Jackson says.

 I will see you later.” She gave them both a squeeze before she turned away and left.

“Tell her I say ‘hi!’.” Bruce shouted after her.

“I will.” Pepper said without pausing.

“She means well.” Steve said when Stiles still looked a bit troubled.

“I know. She just reminds me of my mom.”

Steve hears that sadness in Stiles voice but there was an overpowering sense of pride and love as well. “Then, she must be amazing.”

Stiles looked at Steve and smiled tearfully, “That she is.”

Steve smiled back at him.


	16. Apology Cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Jackson sneaked out of the tower to deal with wolfy business. But the Team wasn't too happy with the disappearance act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! I've finally updated after months! Work has been crazily hectic. And I was a bit depressed more so than usual. Sounds serious. Sorry. But I just got to let you know, all you loyal readers, are one of the main reason I want to still keep going. Thank you for reminding me the things that are worth living for. ^_^
> 
> This is unbetad so correct me if I'm wrong.

Later that day, Stiles met up with the local pack. Everything went smoothly. It might have something to do with the fact that he confessed he was living at the Avenger Tower. He still couldn’t flat out lie to werewolves. Natasha would be so disappointed with him. But he was not on her caliber. He was just an amateur, okay? He might never be able to lie as good as her.

The pack had graciously given them pass to their territory. It wasn’t uncommon for other werewolves to thread on other’s territory. They _were_ still humans after all. It is a specific distinction that separates them from beasts. It’s not uncommon for foreign wolves to stay in or live in a Pack Land.

There was a tense moment after they mentioned where they came from. Turns out they knew about Derek and Laura. They both stayed in New York for most of their years away from Beacon Hills. They knew of Laura’s death but they did not push for details. Something about pack dealing with their own business.

It came as a surprise to them to hear that Stiles and Jackson were a stable pack. It would have been easier to assimilate if they were soulmates. But then, they wouldn’t be here in this mess if it were true.

“ _Gross!_ ” Stiles said then quickly backtracked when he realized he might have insulted someone.

“It’s completely unheard of. This situation of yours. But any wolf can see how strong your bonds are.” Caden, the alpha of the local pack said. The man offered for alliance but Stiles declined. He was already part of a team. But he did offer his help if they ever needed it.

“It was a good talk.” Stiles surmised when they were out of werewolf earshot. There were heading back to the tower.

“Well you didn’t die, so there’s that.” Clint Hawkeye _(he was in his suit)_ commented when he stepped out of a shadowy alley.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Stiles shouted. Clint snickered. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You two left without telling anyone where you’re going.” Clint stated seriously.

“We were just going for a talk you know. We handled it. We really don’t need babysitting.”

“You don’t have the best track record with werewolves.” Clint argued.

“We were under a very stressful track of circumstances. It was bound to be not best.”

“Still, you are part of a team now. You should have at least told us you were leaving, instead of trying to sneak away.”

“I’ve got Jackson. We could totally handle it.”

“In a very slim blind chance. But hey, I’m not really the man you’ll have to explain that too.” Clint shrugged nonchalantly.

Stiles gasped, horrified. “Oh god, Uncle Phil will totally ground me.”

Hawkeye scoffed with a mix of mischief and pity. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He said before he slipped through another alley and disappeared from their view. Jackson could still hear him in the distance, just far away from them to keep an eye. Stiles stared at the darkness puzzled with his reaction.

It wasn’t later that Stiles finally understood what Clint was referring to. Nobody tipped him on how it would feel to stand under the disappointed eyes of Captain America. It makes you want to apologize for every bad deed _(even every bad thoughts)_ you ever had in your worthless, deplorable life. Steve’s eyes were hard and cold. Stiles had never felt more regretful in his whole damned life. 

“I’M SORRY!” Stiles squeaked guiltily. Stiles flinched at his high pitched apology. Steve held up his hand. Sties clammed his mouth shut.

“I assume you have your own reasons for leaving without telling us. I know that you don’t trust us-”

“We do trust you-”

“Not enough.” Steve stated as a matter of fact. Stiles wanted to argue but he knew Steve was right. He doesn’t trust the Avengers fully. But he wanted to. “To some point. But not enough. And I get it. You’ve been dealing with this in secret. But, I just thought it was already given that we’d help you if just asked.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles said again softly.

“I’m letting you two off the hook this time.” Steve said seeing how much the two regretted their actions. “Don’t just leave, okay? You two are our responsibility now. If anything happens to the two of you, we’ll be the ones to answer to Phil and your Dad. Please be more careful.”

“Okay.” Jackson answered. Stiles nodded sullenly.  

“Come on. I set aside some dinner for you two.” Steve said and led them to the private elevator.

“How did you find us anyway. Are we bugged?” Stiles asked.

“I bug coz I love.” Tony’s voice carried over the sound system.

“Seriously?” Stiles rhetorically asked, fearing what part of his attire has bugs in it. The phone for sure. But with Tony, anything is possible. Heck, even his undies can have a tracking device on them.  “You’re just nosy, Tony.” Stiles threw back at the intercom.

“Aw, that’s just rude.” Tony says. Stiles stuck his tongue at the nearest security cam.

Steve didn’t stay to watch them eat. But he explicitly told them to do no more adventures for the rest of the night and Jarvis tasked Jarvis to alarm him if they ever sneak out without permission.

Stiles felt something heavy weighed on his stomach. He watched forlornly as Steve walked away from them. He wanted to call him back but he didn’t know what to say.  

“God I messed up.” Stiles said playing with his food. His just using his fork to roll the peas around his plate.

“We messed up.” Jackson said.

“No, I did. I just dragged you along with me. I should have known better.” Stiles said.

“ _WE_ should have known better. We’re supposed to take care of each other, right?” Jackson said, trying to placate him.

Stiles smiled at the werewolf. In a short span of time, Jackson has become more compassionate. He still has a problem of hiding his emotions and is still a major asshole. But his been opening up more.

“You’re right.” Stiles said. “We should totally talk to cap before we go. I don’t want to go through that again. It’s like I want to come clean for everything bad deed and thoughts I ever had.”

“I did warn you.” Clint said, suddenly popping beside him. Stiles startled at his voice almost fell off his chair. The archer grinned at him. Stiles glared at him. “One day.” he promised to himself. “I’m going to stab your smug look off with one of you arrows.”

“One day, champ. One day.” Clint pat his back patronizingly. Stiles shoved him off, a little harder than usual. Clint deserved it.

“Not enough warning can prepare me for that.” Stiles went back to playing with his food.

Clint suddenly took his plate and his utensils.

“Hey. I’m not finished with that.”

“You weren’t going to finish it anyway. Whatever your feeling, let it rest for tonight. You can deal with it tomorrow morning. Okay?” Clint implored.

“But Cap is upset…” Clint’s feature softened.

“That too. You can’t solve anything if your emotions are running high.”

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” Jackson said who was suddenly beside him and was pulling him up. Stiles looked at the werewolf then to the archer. Both of them waiting patiently for Stiles.

“Okay.” Stiles stood up and let Jackson drag him back to their room.

Stiles didn’t immediately fall asleep that night. He spent two hours tossing and turning before giving up the pretense that he can fall asleep with his thoughts. He got out of his bed.

“Where you goin’?” Jackson asked sleepily.

“I’m just going to bake.”

“I’m coming with you.” Jackson groggily gets up.

They went up the common room. Stiles started to bake cupcakes. Jackson had fallen asleep on the table. Quite soundly if he may say. Stiles ca conclude that werewolves can fall asleep anywhere as long as they feel it’s safe or with someone they trust.

It took Stiles almost 2 hours before he can finish decorating the cupcake. He left a note on the table.

**Sorry for worrying you guys. XD.**

The next day, Stiles woke up early. He had a prepared apology speech ready in his head and a half a dozen apology cupcakes. Stiles took a long deep breath before knocking on Steve’s door.

“Stiles?” Steve asked when he opened the door. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

“I just wanted to say sorry for not telling anyone what we were going to do. You were right. I didn’t trust you or the Avengers, even my uncle, as much as I should. I wanted to trust you. I was just so used to dealing with problems all on my own. I don’t want anyone getting into the mix. Especially, people who are important to me. I didn’t consider that you wanted to help me and Jackson. And it was stupid of me to hide this because we are a team. Well technically an honorary, in-case-of-emergency member but still, a part of the team.” Stiles offered his box of cupcakes. “Will you forgive me?”

Steve stared at him for several seconds before taking the box.

“Apology accepted.” Steve said.

Stiles sighed in relief. “Thanks. It won’t happen again.” Stiles promised.

Steve smirked fondly, totally not believing what Stiles promised. “It will. Phil told me this is bound to happen and it will happen again.”

Stiles grimaced. “Yeah, I can’t help it sometimes.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at that. “It’s only for the meantime, Stiles. So until we can clear you for field, don’t just go up and leave. Give us a heads up, okay?”

“I can do that.” Stiles grinned.

“Let’s hope you do.” Steve said hopefully. “And you’ll have additional 5 laps for sneaking out.”

“Oh come on. I bake you Apology Cupcakes.” Stiles whined.

“You do realize you’re trying to bribe Captain America.” Steve quipped playfully as he stirred the Stiles who was disbelievingly gawking at him with his mouth open.

“Gah.” Stiles said stupidly gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. Steve lost it and laughed out loud.

Stiles couldn’t help but stare at Steve, laughing candidly. Open and free. This was a sight the world has never seen. A sight that got him smiling in spite of himself. Stiles would always want to make this man be this happy.

Still, Steve made him those 10 laps. He looked pitifully at him each time he passed by. But the older man just gave him the number of laps he still had to make. He likes the man, but Jesus Christ, this punishment is suicidal.


	17. Lay It All on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles receives call from Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yah all. So I'm not going to make excuses for not updating cause I have nothing. I've just been really lazy. I'm sorry for that.  
> I'm planning on not including Scott and Derek(mostly Scott, I can completely ditch Derek here) mostly because I have no Idea what to write of them. but some of you made me realized that their interaction with Stiles is integral to this Story. And I've finally able to write Scott(no Derek in this chapter). I hope you won't be disappointed so much. It's the best I can.   
> That'll be be all. Enjoy.   
> P.S. This was meant to be a one shot and has grown into a monster I have no control. But I love writing this. I hope I'll be able to finish it this year.

School had been great. Stiles had the same class as Jackson. Every one of the them. He figures Tony has something to do with it.

It took just little convincing for Jackson’s parents to let him stay in New York. They even considered moving to New York with him as soon as they find a good job vacancy. The chance for a fresh start was too good to pass up. They just want for Jackson to be happy. Jackson had even called them Mom and Dad.  

Stiles tried to figure out which teenage superhero was attending their school. He has a guess but they’ll have to first meet them in person before Jackson could work his werewolf senses to identify the right student.

The day was pretty much boring, No supervillain attacks. No monster calls. Stiles is a bit disappointed.

“You know a normal person don’t daydream of those kind things.” Jackson said. “Oh I forgot. You’re _not_ normal.”

Stiles glared at him. “I don’t know where all this sass is coming from and have mix feelings about it.”

By the end of the school, no villains attacked and the buildings were still intact. When they got back at the tower, they ate a little snack and did their home works. It was agreed upon that their education will come first rather than their training. So they have to finish all of their homework and studies before they could train for the day.

Stiles’ phone rang. Stiles signal for a time out. He and Steve sparring for a good fifteen minutes. Steve immediately stopped his attacks. Stiles picks up his phone lying on the bench. Scott was calling. His stomach dropped, queasy and unsettled.

“Let’s break for five. I need to answer this.” Stiles said. Steve nodded and take a swig from his water bottle.

“Hey, Scott. What’s up?” Stiles greeted,

“Dude, where are you? I’m in your room. Are you okay?” Scott asked. Stiles heard the concern and fear in his voice.

“Scott, relax. I’m OK. I’m just not in Beacon Hills right now.”

“What? Where are you?”

“I’m with my Uncle.”

“Your Uncle Phil? In New York? Why? What are you doing there?”

“Dad has been really concerned with me the past few months. And with what had happened last time, it had been the last straw. He sent me here to cool down. He thinks I’m in a gang or something.”

“You didn’t tell him about me?”

Sometimes, Scott could be so self-centered. Sometimes, the werewolf focused solely on the things that mattered to him and ignore the other stuff happening around him. Stiles, being an independent and uncanny boy that his mother raised him to be, would run around it and compromise around Scott’s ignorance because he could. Stiles could bet in full faith that Scott doesn’t even have a clue of what transpired in the Argent’s basement. Stiles grabbed a handful of his hair and tamed whatever ill-natured feeling he was having. He would not deal with this issue. His wounds (both literally and metaphorically) had stopped bleeding but they were too raw. Touching it would come nothing good for both of them. So instead, Stiles took a deep breath and blew the bad sentiments out of his body for the time being.

“No. It’s not my secret to tell. But Dad definitely knows something is up. He’s afraid that something worse will happen to me. That’s why I decided to stay here.”

“Dude you’re leaving me?”

“No, Scott. Just for a year. Scott, you’re my brother. You’re stuck with me forever. But things are changing. You’ve changed. I, too, changed. And still changing. I’m trying to figure things out. So for now, in the meantime, I have to go… Besides, it’s not like you even need me there anymore.”

“Dude… I’m sorry.”

“I know. You have your reasons. But it still hurts to find out you were keeping things from me.”

“Stiles. I’m really sorry dude.”

“I’m not really the one you should be apologizing to.”

“Derek deserves it.”

Stiles’ grip suddenly hardened. He could remember overwhelming fear of being paralyzed, to not being able to do something, just watching the inevitable unfold. Nobody deserves that. Not even Derek. Scott has blood on his hands. He’s has to be stupid not to see that. 

“Don’t, Scott. Just don’t go there. You’ve endangered everyone’s life. Especially Derek’s. You got issues with him. But what you did to Derek, that was cruel, dude. No excuse can change that.” The line went silent. “It’s not just Derek. You’ve been a jerk Scott to me. You don’t even listen to me. You…” Stiles shut his eyes forcefully. He didn’t want to unload his resentment and fury settling heavily in his heart on Scott. It was not right. It was his fault as much Scott’s. “Scott, Buddy. Why don’t we use this time apart to figure things out? Okay?”

“Stiles, I can’t do this without you.” Scott admitted.

Stiles didn’t what to be condescending or blameful, but the next words were out of his mouth before he could filter it. “You should have known that earlier.”

Stiles becomes silent. He never had pulled back from any bonds he had forged. He was always rushing to them, strengthening them. There were only a few in his life. And each one of them were precious. “Scott?”

Stiles could hear Scott clearing his throat before he answered, “Yeah?”

“If there’s any trouble, call me. I know it seems like I’m leaving you but don’t think for a minute that I abandoned you, okay?” Stiles says. If there was anything he was sure of, Scott is one of the reasons why he wants to be stronger. He wanted to be able to fight alongside him so he wouldn’t have to keep secrets from him.

“I will call you, Stiles.”

“I have to go, Scott. I’ll call you when I can.”

“Ow… okay. Bye, Stiles.” Stiles can hear the melancholy in Scott’s voice. Stiles wanted to reassure him, to say everything will be alright. But in the end he couldn’t. Nothing will ever be the same. All the things they did, it will have price and they have to pay it. Scott needed to know this.

“Bye, Scott.” Stiles hanged up.

Stiles sighed helplessly. He was exhausted. He never thought there would come a time when talking with Scott could be emotionally draining. He sat down the bench and replayed his conversation with Scott in his mind. It was hurtful and he was not sure if it was the right way to go.

“You look like you need a drink.” Steve held out his hand. Stiles smiles and grab at Steve’s hand. Steve pulled him up. He let go of Stiles hand but then he wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and led him out of the gym.

Stiles was surprised with the sudden closeness. His heart was starting to speed up again.  Stiles hesitantly put his hand on Steve’s back.

Steve led him to his _(Steve’s)_ room. It was the first time has been inside Steve’s room. It was more modern than he’d imagine. Probably because of Tony.

“Just give me a minute. It’ll be ready in a jiffy.” Steve said who was getting some rather extra-large mugs.  Then, Steve was pulling out what looked like coco powder.

“Ow. You’re making coco.” Stiles said.

“Yes. It’s the fanciest I can make. I’m afraid it might not hold up to yours.”

“N-no. I love coco. I just… I thought we’d be drinking something else. You know. _harder_ than that.” Then Steve gets it. He then looked flatly at Stiles. Stiles holds up his hands. “Clearly, I’m not thinking right. Did I mention my great love of cocos?”

Stiles knew, just knew, that Steve wanted to roll his eyes but was restraining himself not to do it. Instead, he huffed and went back to making cocos. But Stiles saw the fond smile playing on Steve’s lips.

Stiles looked around Steve’s room. He always thought Steve’s room would feel military, spotless and orderly. There’s a subtle pattern everywhere he looked. If he wasn’t trying to absorb everything he can see, he would have missed it. The rule of thirds had a lot of influence on where things are. There’s a blending of dark brown furniture and royal blue wallpaper with some actuation of red and white knickknacks.

Under the coffee table just in front of Stiles, a sketch pad and pencil laid. He looked at it then at Steve. His fingers twitched. He wanted to sneak a peek, take a quick look. He stopped himself and decided to ask for Steve’s permission. It felt like it an invasion of something deep. More importantly, he didn’t want to betray the man. After all, Steve let him inside his home.

“Steve.” Stiles called out.

“Yes, Stiles.” Steve answered looking up from where he was stirring.

“Are you still draw? There’s a sketchpad under the table.”

Steve looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes shifted to the table then back to Stiles. “It’s just a hobby now.” Steve said, casually. Too casually for Stiles’ ears. Stiles narrow his eyes, _Is Steve embarrassed to know he was drawing?_

“Can I take a look?” Stiles asked, politely. Steve blushes. _Ow._ Steve really is embarrassed with his drawing. Or may be… “Is this full of nude drawings?”

Stiles gasped at what he just asked. He covered his mouth. Damn his mouth filter. If it wasn’t for dysfunctional, he’d have none at all. _Dear god. Uncle Phil will strangle me to death._

To make matters worse, Steve blushed even deeper Stiles was afraid he might just explode right there. His ears were flushing a deep pink. Steve was trying to look anywhere but him.

“No. It doesn’t have nude drawings.” Steve said, eye flickering everywhere but Stiles. “If you want to look at it, go ahead.”

Stiles noted the Steve’s hesitance. “I won’t look at it if you don’t want me to.”

Steve paused for a sec, deliberating before he just gave in with a drop of his shoulders. “It’s fine with me. I just… I’ve never shown it to anyone.”

“It can’t be that bad. You were a cartoonist before you joined the army, weren’t you?”

“I was. But this is art. Not everyone appreciates it.”

“I promise I won’t criticize you. Well not that hard any way.” Stiles joked, grinning. Stiles chuckled. “So can I?” Stiles pointed at the sketchpad.

“Go ahead.” Steve waved his hand in a dismissive affirmation.

Stiles was floored when he began to scanned it. Steve was really _really_ good at drawing. Stiles was not a very artsy person but damn, he knew Steve excelled in art. Every drawing was master piece. There was always an emotion in each of them as if Steve had imprinted his feelings in every stroke of charcoal.

First was a drawing of a woman, side-faced, washing the dishes with a smile on her lips. Stiles assumed it must be Sarah Rogers, Steve’s mom. She looked beautiful. Stiles can’t help but feel like he is intruding something private.

As he flipped through the pages, he realized where Steve’s hesitance was coming from. It wasn’t just drawings. It was Steve’s memory. The Howling Commando drinking beer. Peggy Carter holding a gun. Bucky in his military regalia. Howard Stark tinkering with a gizmo. Dr. Erskine.

He could feel the longing in them. How Steve must have feel lonely on a bad day and decided to sketch someone from his past. As he recalled the way their eyes light up when they smile or how their eye brows furrow, a mixture of joy and sadness started to settle on the pit of his stomach.

Stiles finds himself feeling the same way. The next second he blinked, his vision got blurry. He wanted to cry. He stilled himself. Steve wouldn’t want that.

“Here.” Steve said. He offered a mug to Stiles. Stiles gratefully took it.

It was a mug of hot coco with whipped cream and toasted marshmallow. “Thanks.” Stiles took it a little sip. “Hmm, there’s melted marshmallow. Pretty good for a starter. It bit too strong with the milk but it’s good.” Stiles said in a pretend criticizing voice. Steve smiled at that.

Steve sat beside him. Stiles moved the sketch pad between them. There were some drawing from the present. The Ironman armor disassembling from Tony. Mjölniron the coffee table. A side by side sketch of present and past Brooklyn Bridge.

Then, he got to a drawing of himself. His magic stick raised ready as he looked to his left where a sketchy image of a doombot was coming.

“Is this me?” Stiles asked and looked at Steve.

“It’s you.” Steve answers.

Stiles looked back at the picture. Somehow, he looked brave and legendary as if nothing could stand in my way.

“Why did you draw me?”

“I can’t get it out of my head. When I saw you, fighting, I was afraid you were going to get hurt or worse… I kept asking why can’t you just run away. I knew but I can’t accept it. So I draw drawing helps me unload the things running in my head. And as I drew you, I remembered your moxie.”

“Moxie?” Stiles asked.

“Your determination. Nerve.” Steve expounded, helpfully. Ow. Stiles nodded, adding another vintage word in his vocabulary. “Looking back at it, I realized something. As much as I was afraid of it, I was truly impressed. Even in this time, that kind of courage is rare. What you did is admirable.”

Stiles was elated, cloud nine high. Pride swelled in his chest. It’s not every day that you can impress a superhero.

“I hope you’ll never forget the reason why you want to become stronger.” Steve said, seriously. He’d seen men walked the path of the righteous and in the end become the devil. In fighting evil, one must be wary not to become one.

“I’ll try my best. But in any case, I know you’ll be there to remind me.” Stiles answers with conviction. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve asked.

“I’m pretty sure you already know.” Stiles throws cheekily. This time, Steve rolled his eyes. And Stiles couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping out of him. “You should ask Tasha for an eavesdropping lesson.”

Steve leveled him with a flat _(really now?)_ look. Stiles shrugged. _Deflection, thy name is Stiles_.

But then, Steve’s features softened. He touched Stiles shoulders and lightly compelled the younger man to face him. Stiles breath almost hitched at the soft touch. He looked at Steve’s hand then up the soldier’s eyes full of concern. “You do remember you can trust me, don’t you?”

Stiles smiled. How can man gunned down with loss and misery be made kinder? “I do. And I… I couldn’t be more thankful for that. But this is just tinie tiny thing. You don’t need to worry about it, Steve. Really.”

“But I do worry, Stiles. I saw how much it was hurting you. You’re my friend. I just want to make sure my friends are okay.”

Steve considering Stiles as a friend surprised him. As welcoming as it is, Stiles never really thought of staying in the tower like sleep over with Scott. It always felt too polite, like when one of the deputy invites him for their kid’s birthday party he barely knew. It just now that it hit him hard that, at least, Captain America would be his friend. Nobody offered it like Steve. Except Thor. But Thor is friendly with everyone. He definitely doesn’t count.

It was kind of touching and reassuring to hear it actually came from Steve. Stiles had never been good at making new friends. He’s too loud, too much this and too much that. It drove people away sometimes or just plain ignore him.  

“Kind of crazy. Living in the Avenger. Being friends with Captain America.” Stiles mused.

“Says the boy who run with wolves and has magical powers.” Steve said dryly.

Stiles grinned. He must admit this is one of the few perks of being crazy that he really likes as he watched Steve watch him give him that look. A look that gives him a rush. Steve gave him a warm smile.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I respect that. But if you do, you can talk to me.” Steve said, eyeing him worriedly. 

“I will… talk to you that is… when it’s easier to talk about it.” Stiles assured the older man. Steve nod, finally conceding.

Stiles took another sip. “You know… This feels good. Talking, spending the evening in calm and peace. It’s like a sleep over. The only thing missing is braiding our hair.”

“We could invite Thor next time.” Steve offered, grinning.

“His hair is divine, pun intended.” Stiles winked at Steve.  “We could also invite Pepper She’s got to be good at giving advices. What with living with Tony for a decade and all. There’s probably nothing that amazing woman can’t solve.”

“Probably not Tony.” Steve said, grimacing like he tasted something bad.

Stiles laughed, remembering the viral video of a drunk Captain America saluting to the flag while the national anthem played. The good soldier tried to kept straight but he was swaying and nodding off the next few seconds. _It was hilarious._  “Oh god, that video.”

“You saw it?” Steve asked, dreadfully. Stiles nodded, trying to stop laughing but failing. Steve carded a frustrated hand through his hair but he was smiling in spite of himself. “I’m never letting Tony near my drinks ever again.”

“You were trying to stand straight but you keep nodding off and you’d get back up again. You were so cute.” Stiles commented. Steve shook his head, not wanting to hear it, but he was chuckling.

Stiles laugh died down. Steve looked back at Stiles. Both of them smiling at each other.

“We should do this more often.” Stiles suggested. Steve looked at him questioningly. “You. Me. Having a quiet time after a stressful week. Unloading the bad stuffs. Having a little fun time.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Steve agrees, smiling lazily.

“It must be since you’re The Man with A Plan.” Stiles quipped and not a bit least sorry. Steve grinned at the obvious reference.

“It’s getting late. You should go to bed now.” Steve said when he realized it was way past training time. Stiles looked at his phone’s clock. Yep, it really was.

“Oh crap. I’m going now.” Stiles said standing up. Steve walk him to the door and opened it for him.

“There’s a movie I’d like to watch later this week. Do you to come watch it with me?” Steve asked, suddenly. Stiles paused just outside the door and turned back to face Steve. Steve waited for his response. He looked timid and hopeful at the same time.

“What movie?” Stiles asked curiously.

“Lilo and Stitch by Disney?”

“Oh that’s a good one.”

“Bruce suggested it.”

“Okay. Just tell me and I’ll be there.” Stiles promised. Steve smiled big.

“Swell. May be on Friday? After our sparring?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Good night, Stiles.”

“Good night, Steve.” Stiles raised a small, a little shy wave and started making his way to his room, carrying big smiled on his face.

Stiles forced himself not to make anything out of it. He knew Steve only wanted a friendly movie date. He might even be the only one Steve invited. But dammit, he couldn’t wait for Friday.

When he got back to his room, Jackson was already waiting for him in his bed. He looked up from his phone when Stiles opened the door.

“How’s the date?” Jackson asked.

“I’m not aware I had one.” He quickly grabbed his towel and sped his way towards his bathroom.

“Denial!” Jackson shouted after him. Stiles gave him the bird before locking the door.

After a quick shower, Stiles joined the werewolf on the bed. Stiles snuggled on the werewolf’s chest.

“Scott called today.” Stiles begun. The werewolf abandoned his facebook and quickly shifted his attention to his packmate. “It’s nothing bad. But it’s definitely not good.”

“He’s an idiot.” Jackson stated.

“I know. But he’s my idiot. He’ll come around but I don’t want to deal with him right now. I can’t. Am I being too selfish?” Stiles asked.

“I think after everything that had happened we need time to heal. How long will that take is solely up to us. No can tell your wounds when it should heal. So if you’re still hurting, it’s okay.” Stiles buried his face Jackson chest and clung the werewolf tighter. Jackson wrapped his arms around Stiles and kissed the top of his head. “You can lay it all on me.”

Stiles nodded. “Thank you.”

“What’s a pack for?” Jackson asked rhetorically. And it made Stiles smile.

Somehow, Stiles felt a little bit better. This pack thing, this closeness and connection, it was more than just good that came out of the crazy. It was an unexpected miracle.


	18. Lunar Influence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's first full moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a big mistake. This is chapter was misplaced in my writing. This happened before Jackson and Stiles helped Spiderman. I totally forgot the timeline.   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

All day long, Jackson had been jittery. He reacted to the slightest change around him. Stiles had asked him if he wanted to go home but the werewolf was stubborn. He felt their bond throbbing with tense energy and, in some way, he can feel the pull of the moon, prickling under his skin.

Stiles insisted that they take the day off on several occasions but Jackson refused. So long as Stiles is with him, he could control himself. Jackson calmed whenever Stiles was near or touching him skin to skin. The control Jackson was exhibiting was exemplary. He had never seen Scott exert this much control before a full moon, even with Allisson around. Even Derek, a born wolf, had trouble separating the effect of the moon from his own emotions.

When they got home after school, Jackson immediately took a shower. He couldn’t take the smell of strangers on him. It was a peculiar thing to say. Scott never complained about smelling like someone else. Then again, Scott never paid adequate attention to this sort of things. Stiles took the initiative to take a shower so he could get rid of the scents of strangers on him.

Stiles was starting on his homework when his door open. Stiles looked up from his books and found Jackson take a lungful of air through his nose and sighed contentedly.

“Smell something good?” Stiles teased with smirk.

Jackson scowled. “You smell like you.” Jackson said. He crossed the room and sat on the chair beside Stiles. Stiles scooted away so they could share his table.

“I figured it’ll calm you down if I also don’t smell like strangers.” Stiles explained his theory and it seemed to show.

Jackson smiled. “Didn’t know you cared, Stilinski. But, you’re right. I do feel better.”

“Sir, should I inform the others of this development? His level of anxiety has decreased.” Jarvis asked. The A.I. still startled them.

“As a suggestion, Jarvis. They don’t have to do it. Do not oblige them, please.” Jackson asked politely.

Stiles could only blink in surprise. Hearing Jackson ask for a request and being thoughtful of others was something Stiles was witnessing for the first time. Stiles smiled at how far Jackson had come in just a short period of time.

“You know what. I never thought I’d see the day you’ll use the word ‘please’ and mean it.” Stiles said.

Jackson looked at him with shy smile. “It’s because of you. And the team. You’ve all been a good influence to me.”

“I guess we made the right call when we decided to stay here.” Stiles said. Jackson nodded.

It’s past seven when they were called for diner. Natasha and Phil were on a mission but the rest of the team was there. Stiles took the seat beside Steve. It had become sort of habit and a running inside joke between all of them, sans Steve. Everyone except the super soldier knew that Stiles had a gigantic crush on him.

“You’ve been raving about steak yesterday.” Clint explained when they saw the excessive amount of steak and other meat variety food. Clint was still wearing an apron when they came in.

“You made all of this?” Jackson asked incredulously.

“Better keep you sated. Don’t want to be werewolf chow later.” Clint joked. Jackson rolled their eyes.

A few days ago they had confirmed that werewolves needed to eat a lot more when the full moon nears. Bruce made some test and they figured that a Jackson’s cells were undergoing rapid activity than normal and using more calorie and protein than normal.

“Thank you.” Jackson said, sincerely. Clint smiled softly. It looked like it wasn’t just Stiles who realized how much the werewolf changed.

They began to eat their diner. Steve had asked them about their day, especially Jackson. Steve was happy to learn that they did okay. Stiles added his observation about Jackson’s amazing control.

“Do we still have to go through with your plan tonight?” Steve asked Jackson.

Jackson put down his utensils, brows furrowed while he was thinking hard. “It’s better safe than sorry. I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

“If you say so.” Steve said.

 

Later that night, Stiles and Jackson and the Avengers went to the training room. There was an air mattress in the middle of the room. Jackson stood beside the air mattress.

“I’ll make the circle bigger so you don’t feel confined.” Stiles said. Jackson nodded.

Stiles opened the vial of mountain ash and poured it on the floor. It raced around the room tracing an invisible circle. When it reached where it started. A blue barrier ignited for a second and became invisible the next. Jackson reached out of the circle only to touch an invisible wall. Even as he pushed harder, he could not move closer.

“It’s working.” Jackson said. He relaxed a little bit, consoled that he won’t hurt anyone.

“The moon will cross in a few minutes. JARVIS will monitor your vitals and inform us of anything that will put you in danger.” Bruce said, looking at his StarkPad.

Everyone one sat on the floor, waiting anxiously for the moon to appear.

Jackson snapped to the right.

“It’s starting.” Jackson announced in tense voice. When he looked back at them, his eyes were glowing yellow. Hair started to appear on his jaw, and arms. His nails lengthened into a claw. And his fangs jutted out of his lips.

When his shifting was complete, Jackson snarled at them and he suddenly jumped toward the nearest heartbeat. He hit the barrier and fell back. Jackson immediately jumped right back and clawed at the barrier. A frustrated growl kept rumbling in his throat.

“Jackson.” Stiles called out, worriedly.

The werewolf looked up at him. His bright yellow eyes were begging for something. “Stiles.” Jackson whimpered his name, through gritted teeth.

Stiles moved closer. The werewolf followed his movements.

“Stiles.” The werewolf whimpered. “Pack.” His palms and face were plastered on the barrier and he kept on trying to push through the field. He kept on whispering Stiles’ name and the word, ‘Pack’.

Stiles felt like his heart was being stabbed. He held up his hand over Jackson’s and crossed the barrier until they were touching skin to skin. Jackson relaxed vastly. The change in behavior was visible.

Stiles _thinks_. A hypothesis crossed his mind. And it was too risky to put it to the test.

Stiles took a leap of faith. He crossed the circle and hugged Jackson with everything he had. He didn’t care if he might get hurt. As long as he could stop the way Jackson was hurting, it would be worth it.

He could hear the Avengers calling him, worried and afraid. He was aware of the fearful call from Steve.

He waited with bathed breath for the worst. But it didn’t come. It wouldn’t. Jackson would never hurt him. He knew. He could feel it in their pack bond.

Instead, a gentle but tense arms wrapped around him and pulled him into an almost desperate embrace. Jackson breathed heavily, inhaling his scent like he had done previously.

Jackson pulled back, letting his hands slid off Stiles’ back on to the brunette’s arm. His werewolf hair has receded except for the ones’ on his eyebrows. The fangs are still there along with his claws. And his eyes are still glowing yellow.

“This is dangerous. I could have ripped you apart.” Jackson muttered in frustration, shaking Stiles to get him to know how stupid his action was.

“Yeah, I was afraid you might do that. Good thing you didn’t.” Stiles said, jovially. Jackson groaned in frustration. “Besides, I know you won’t really hurt me. You just need some Stilinski hug. I can feel it in the pack bond. You can’t deny it.”

Jackson shook his head and laughed almost hysterically. “My god, you are an annoying little shit, Stilinski.”

Stiles gave Jackson a shit eating grin.

“Uhm Stiles?” Steve called, cautiously.

Stiles totally forgot about others. Stiles turned back to them. He made sure not to lose body contact with Jackson.

“It’s okay, Steve. Jackson got it under control.” Stiles said. Steve looked skeptic and so are the others. Most of them were ready to bring out their weapons if Jackson became violent. “Werewolves can subdue their bloodlust and remain human if they can find an ‘ _anchor_ ’ to their humanity. And Jackson made me and the pack bond his anchor.”

“Pack bond?” Bruce asked.

“It’s like an empathic link between members of a pack. It let us feel what the pack is feeling.” Stiles explained.

“But you’re not a werewolf.” Bruce said.

“A werewolf pack sometimes contains human. It’s actually healthy to have at least one. Humans help stabilize a pack. They keep the wolf instincts at bay.”

“So the more humans, the more control?” Clint asked.

Stiles considered it and the math seemed right. “Yep.” Stiles answered, popping the letter ‘P’.

“Then, can I be part of your pack, Jackson?” Clint asked Jackson, seriously. It was the first time he had heard the archer utter the werewolf’s name.

Jackson stared at the archer. Stiles saw something pieced together within Jackson like a jigsaw puzzle slotting in its right place. Something unique and unequivocal.

“I already consider you pack, Clint. It’s up to Stiles whether you can join or not.” Jackson said honestly. Then, he turned to Stiles with hopeful eyes. 

“Why?” Clint asked, baffled.

“I’m his alpha. Don’t ask why. I don’t know the answers. Yet. But I’m working on it.” Stiles said. “Like Jackson said, we already consider you pack.”

Stiles offered his fist. Clint looked at it then to Jackson. The archer’s brows knitted as he decided. He nodded to himself as he came into a decision. Clint bumped his fist with Stiles. Stiles’ magic ignited and connected him with Clint. It pricked them like static shock.

And with that, Stiles felt the pack bond extending instantly, connecting another person on it. But unlike his bond with Jackson, Clint’s bond felt a lot more muted. It was there he can feel it but it was not vibrating with emotions. He could barely sense anything from him. But there was a promise that it would grow stronger.

“Don’t ask me why my magic does that. I have no idea. But I’m working on it.” Stiles explained when Clint glared at him after Clint screamed like a girl. “On the hindsight I should have warned you about the static shock thingy that happens. I’m sorry?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “It’s okay. I was just surprised.” Clint cleared his throat. He held up his hand and checked his body. “I don’t feel that different.” He sounded confused and a bit disappointed.

“That’s probably because your human.” Stiles guessed.

“I can feel you in the pack bond though.” Jackson offered.

Clint looked back at Jackson. “Does this mean you won’t bite me?”

“No.” Jackson stated calmly.

Clint nodded. “Okay. That’s good.” He said as he walked over to Jackson. He took a deep breath before he crossed the line. Jackson stayed where he was, waiting. “Do you have urge to kill me?”

“Not more than usual.” Jackson quipped.

Clint smiled and he sat beside Jackson. He put a comforting hand on the werewolf’s shoulder.

“So what now?” Clint asked.

Stiles mulled over the situation.

“How about we test Jackson’s control?” Steve asked. But before any of them could dismiss the idea, Steve had already crossed the mountain ash line. Everyone waited for the worst to happen but Jackson remained sitting on the floor. “Looks like you have perfect control over you shift, Jackson.”

Stiles was dumbfounded by the sheer audacity and recklessness he just witnessed. “Steve! That was really dangerous.”

“Pot to a kettle.” The man jibe without heat.

“What?” Stiles asked. Steve just smiled at him. Stiles glared at him.

“Now we know he won’t hurt anybody.” Steve stated. “What do we do now, Stiles?”

“For starter, we do not do anything reckless.” Stiles jabbed at Steve. Steve shrugged a what-can-I-do shrug. “With Jackson control, I don’t think we need the team to guard him. You can all get some rest. Clint and I will keep him company.”

The team agreed with him and left them, except for Steve.

“Why don’t you wait out the full moon in your room? It’ll be a familiar and safe territory. Wouldn’t you feel better there, Jackson?” Steve said.

“I guess so.” Jackson said.

“I can ward the room.” Stiles said. Stiles called back the mountain ash to his vial.

They got up and headed to their room. Steve had stayed behind in the elevator because his room was a floor up and bid the good night.

Jackson went straight to Stiles bed and settled himself. He was already on his night cloths. Stiles warded his room to keep Jackson in.

Stiles settled beside Jackson as Clint started to stripped his suit. Jackson was glued on watching the archer. Stiles can feel something in their pack bond but he chose to ignore it. He let this one slide until the two of them ironed out whatever is between them.

Clint chose to sleep on Jackson’s other side.

“Let’s take a picture.” Stiles said. “It’s our first pack night. We need to take pictures.”

The two agreed. Stiles took a picture of the three of them.

The three settle to comfortable sleeping positions. Somehow they were all touching each other.


	19. Unauthorized Field Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Jackson had to intervene a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a minor update for fun.

The Avengers weren’t always there to train them. In time when they are indispensable to missions, Phil mixed them with the new recruits in the SHIELD Academy. Stiles met the agent who accompanied them back home, Agent Ward, for several times and sometimes, he sparred with him.

Agent ward had asked why were they were recruited.

“Because magic. Real and Dangerous magic. SHIELD don’t have intelligence on the true nature of magic. I am the most forthcoming practitioner that SHIELD knows.” If there were any other, he’d be dismissed faster than he can howl. But Stiles didn’t tell him that. He’s painfully aware of that fact.

On weekends, Phil will bring them to the Triskelion to observe an ongoing mission, pointing what’s happening for them to learn from it. Most of them were low key missions. A bit of following here and there. Some strategic planning here and there. Phil knew Stiles learned better through trial and error.

If possible, Stiles would accompany Steve on his morning runs. Just a few minutes to start his day. Steve didn’t want him tired and unable to concentrate in school. But Stiles made a simple promise, he’ll be darned if he can’t keep it.

 

***

 

Stiles cringed as he watched Peter hurriedly remove the spiked ball from his thigh. He shoots his web and swing to the adjacent building. He narrowly escaped Rhino’s attack. This supervillain team up is effective. Peter could only swing to dodge away.

He and Jackson had been observing the hero for a while now. Once Jackson caught the unique scent of the young hero, it wasn’t long before he was able to track it back to unsuited hero. Every now and then, they would see him in his Spiderman ( _Spider **BOY** , Jackson pointed on more than one occasion_) suit, swing from building to building and fighting superheroes.

Stiles tapped Jackson’s shoulder. The werewolf looked at him and it didn’t even take a second for Jackson to realize what’s exactly on his mind. All of the avengers are indisposed to a place his uncle only disclosed as classified. ( _Stiles knew because Cap told Stiles they were going to Madripor just before they left. Cap didn’t need to break the rules and tell him. But frankly, he appreciates the gesture since his uncle will be with them_.) Spiderman was fighting a losing battle and there won’t be any Superhero back up to change the tide. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Jackson said but he is already looking for an empty place to suit up.

Jackson led Stiles to an empty alley. Stiles casted a mixture of glamour and invisibility spell just to be safe.

Stiles used his magic to change his and Jackson’s into a Shield uniform that Tony modified specifically for them. Stiles added a mask he tricked so that only he and his trusted people can remove it.

“This is a bad idea.” Jackson stated, cracking his knuckles.

“I’m aware of that.” Stiles said, looking at the ongoing fight. “But he needs us.” Jackson nodded and both of them run to the scene.

“What’s the plan?” Jackson asked.

Rhino threw a car but Spiderman manage to dodged it. Stiles cringed at the sound of the crash and scream bodies. Right, priorities.

“Our priority Civilian Safety. I’ll create a barrier while you distract them. Then, we’ll take them head on.”

Jackson nodded and headed off to the fight. Stiles took a packet full of mountain ash and willed it to form a perimeter big enough to enclose the whole block. When both ends meet, it glowed and blue force field enclosed them. Everyone except the supervillains can get out of it and no one can get in either, unless he permits it. When he was done, he turned his attention to the fight. Three against five.

Jackson kept them distracted. He swiped them with his sharp claws and then he swiftly dodged and run out of their reach.

Stiles prepared a lightning spell first before he unleashed his magic, blue light shooting out of his hands. With his magic, he pushed the villains away from his packmate and they crushed into a building. Then, he threw then lightning spell at them. A magic circle opened and lightning stormed out of it and electrocuting everyone near it.

Stiles run to Jackson. “You okay” Stiles asked, checking on his packmate.

“I’m good. Sparing with Thor really paid off.” Jackson said. His cuts were already healing.  

His spell ended and all of the villains dropped, unconscious but still alive. Webs rained down upon the villains. Stiles sent a paralyzing spell to further restrict them.

“That should hold them.” Stiles said.

Spider man dropped in front of them.

“Dudes, thanks for the assists.” Spiderman said.

“No problem, dude.” Stiles said.

Police sirens could be heard approaching from a distance.

“We better get out of here.”

Stiles levitated himself and Jackson to a rooftop just a few building from the scene. Spiderman followed them. Stiles undid the force field and called the mountain ash back to him.

“You’re not typical shield agents.” Spiderman stated.

Stiles gave the superhero a deadpan look. “What? The magic and werewolf part not didn’t give it away?”

“No insult intended. It’s just nothing about you two screamed superhero.”

“Well, technically, this is a suit. But we’re not supposed to be here so.” Stiles shrugged.

“Spark, I can see Agent Ward looking at us.” Jackson informed them. Stiles would like grin at the code name but he the name killed the mood. Don’t get him wrong. He respects Agent Ward with fear and admiration because he’s really good. But Agent ward is fiercely loyal to his uncle and he’ll surely rat them out.

 “Oh crap. Uncle is so going to kill me.” Stiles started on his teleportation spell. “It’s pretty awesome teaming up with you but we have to go.” He offered the Spiderman his fist.

“Back at you.” Spiderman bumped his fist on Stiles. “This isn’t the last time I’ll be seeing you two, is it?”

Stiles grinned. “Are you kidding me? We’re only getting started.”

Jackson sighed in exasperated fondness.

And with a flash of light, both of them were standing in Stiles’ bedroom, back in their previous clothes.

“Pretty good for our first run, right?” Stiles acclaimed, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Jackson nodded, still a little high himself.

They had a few more chat about their enemy before they eat their snack and do some homework.

 

It was the next night that the Avenger came back. And he got an earful from his uncle about their reckless decision to join the fight without anyone’s knowledge.

“But you won’t clear us for field until we’re 18.” Stiles stated matter-of-factly. “Even if I can beat Thor, you will never let us go.”

Phil halted at that because that was his plan all along. His expression became pained and sad.

“I’m aware of it from the start. And I know that there’ll never be a good time to fight. In fact, it’ll _always_ be a bad time. We’ll never know when things will go south. And I’m not sitting idly when I see it. None of you will. So why should I?” Stiles stares them down. None would meet his eyes.

Phil pulled him into a tight hug. Stiles returned the gesture and hug him with all he got. Phil pulled back but left a gentle hand caressing Stiles nape.  His eyes were watery and a sad smile quivered on his lips.  

“God, you sound just like her.” Phi whispered between the two of them. Stiles smiled sadly. “You are both too stubborn for your own good.” Phil pulled him close and kissed his head. “Okay. I’ll try to be less protective if you promise you’ll be less reckless.”

“It’ll try.” Stiles would do his best.

Phil decided to stay for diner watching his nephew on those security videos had taken a toll on him. Stiles was more than happy to make diner with him and Bruce.

Tony suggested for a movie night. Phil opted out because he had a lot of things to do but promised he’d find a way to have one next time. Everybody else stayed.

A little bit into the movie, Steve moved over to sit beside Stiles. Stiles felt his pulse kicked up a bit when Steve sat flushed beside him.

“You did good.” Steve told him. Stiles felt like he was about to burst from the inside.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.” Stiles said offering his popcorn to Steve. Steve smiled and took some.


	20. Vibes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dabbling with clairvoyance does present some side effects. Especially when you run with the Agents of Shield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll!!! Update after a very long time. No promise that this is good but have fun with it. ^_^ I miss wrtiting

It was not like Stiles was really paying attention but the vibes he sensed were strong. Whenever he came to the Triskelion, it prickled his skin like a breeze of hot air on a hot summer day. Call him crazy, but he just had to find where it was coming from. There was a hum of something powerful and ancient inside the Triskelion. He didn’t know what it was. But it was gentle and non-maleficent. There must be a reason why such force was staying in the world’s most powerful security agency.  
Stile hadn’t felt it during the first few time he’d been in there. But ever since he dabbled in clairvoyance to make sure his dad wasn’t eating food he was not supposed to eat, he started to sense things that were out of ordinary. Non-humans became more distinguishable from ordinary humans. They stood out from the crowd like bright neon signs on a city of fluorescent light.  
Sometimes he could sense the people nearby him. He would know it was without looking to check. No matter how thick the wall is or whatever it is made of, he could feel them. And there is the almost constant awareness of his pack.  
Stiles halted. He counted under his breath and let his senses stretch, piercing through the walls and floors and through the whole building. He begun tracing where that power was coming from.  
His legs started to move on its own. It didn’t even register to Stiles that he started walking or moving. Until, suddenly he was standing in front of a desk. There was a man looking up at him and his hands stilled with holding his papers.  
“Mr. Stilinski?” The man asked. Stiles shook his head and his senses snapped back. He saw what he was looking for. It was a shield agent. Blonde hair, blue eyes with a strong jaw and youthful face.  
“Where am I?” Stiles asked mostly himself.  
“HR department. Did you got lost?” The man answered him.  
Stiles blinked, still a little light-headed from the limited omnipotence power trip he just had. He had never gone that deep before. “Kind of. I was actually looking for you.”  
“Me?” The man asked, bright blue eyes blinking in bafflement.  
Stiles nodded. “Kind of. I just didn’t know it was you.”  
“I don’t understand, Mr. Stilinski.”  
Stiles perked up upon hearing his name. “Wait. You know me?”  
“Everybody in the level 7 HR knows you and your friend. You caused quite a stir. Had us all frantic trying to find out who you are and everything that has to do with you.”  
Stiles cringed, apologetically. “I’m sorry.” Stiles said.  
“So what are you doing here?” The man asked curiously.  
“I don’t really know.” Stiles admitted, looking around the room. “I’m a little confused myself. I was just tracking the source of the vibes and it lead me here… to you. What are you?”  
“I’m a SHIELD agent.” He stated.  
“No. I mean what are you?”  
The man looked at him with confusion. “I’m level 7 SHIELD agent? I handle human resource-”  
“No no no. I’m asking what kind of supernatural creature are you. I’m a spark. A magic user. You? What are you?”  
“I think you got the wrong guy, Mr. Stilinski. I’m just human with no powers or special skill. Except for standard SHIELD training.”  
Stiles had to step back. Every word he said was true. He meant it. But the force in him told another story. Was the man not really aware of what he is?  
“What if I tell you you’re wrong? That you are more than what you think you are?”  
“No. I can’t believe you.” The man denied vehemently. “I’m normal. I’ve always been normal.”  
“Then, can you tell me with certainty that you haven’t experienced anything weird? Something out of ordinary that you can’t explain? Something beyond natural? Anything?”  
The man paused. He looked to the left and his brows furrowed. He remembered something.  
“You have, haven’t you?” Stiles asked.  
The man looked up with confusion and fear was clearly in his eyes. His world was shaken and its foundation was crumbling down. Stiles got worried so he touched the man’s shoulder and shook him back, kept him grounded.  
“Hey, man. I’m sorry you have to find out like this.” Stiles said calmly.  
“It makes sense now. Afghanistan… The fire…” He lifted his hands and stared at them. “But I don’t know what I am.” The man looked back at him. “Do you know what I am?”  
“I want to be your Yoda, Anakin. But sorry dude, I haven’t the faintest idea. All I know is you have something powerful inside you.” Stiles admitted.  
“I don’t know what to do.” The man admitted hopelessly.  
“If you want to I can help you.” Stiles offered genuinely. “Probably not much. But I know people who can help me help you.” Stiles smiled encouragingly.  
“Thanks you. But I need some time alone to process this.”  
Stiles nodded. He totally understand.  
“Oh okay. What’s your name?”  
“Jordan Parrish.”  
“Okay, Jordan. Take as much time as you want. But if you think that you need my help don’t hesitate to find me. I’m going to leave you my number. Just call me and I’ll be there.”  
Jordan gave him a pen a piece of paper. Stiles wrote his number.  
“I’m going now. I’m supposed to meet my uncle.” Stiles said.  
“Okay. Thank you, Stiles.”  
Stiles nodded and got out of the room.  
When he arrived at his uncle’s office, Jackson and Clint was already there and his uncle was looking at his tablet. As he closed the door behind him, his uncle glanced at him with curiosity.  
“What were you doing at H.R.?” Phil asked him  
Stiles shrugged. “Got sidetracked.” Stiles said as he sat beside Jackson.  
Everyone gave him an unimpressed look. They all knew it was half the truth.  
“Is it a danger?” His uncle asked, seriously.  
“Yes. But not harmful.” Stiles admitted. “He’s a good guy. One of our own.”  
Phil laid his tablet on the table and gave his full attention to Stiles. “What makes you say ‘he’s a good guy’?”  
“I just know. Besides, he’s one of us.” Stiles said.  
Phil stared at him for several seconds. And it was starting to make Stiles squirm on his seat even if he did nothing wrong. “You always did have a good judgement of people.” Phil finally said. “Do we have to keep an eye on him?”  
“No. Let’s leave him alone for now.” Stiles said.  
“Very well. You are our leading expert on this field.” Phil said.  
Stiles scoffed without heat. “I am your _only_ expert on this field.”  
Phil smiled fondly. “Which reminded me. Director Fury suggested that we form a division that will specialize in dealing with the supernatural. Obviously, he wants you two in it. But you know your situation. So we reached a compromise. Just like your Avenger agreement, you two will only function on the direst situations only. And since you two are our only source of genuine data on supernatural, you’ll serve as our consultants. So? What do you say?”  
“When you say ‘dealing with supernatural’, do you mean killing them?”  
“Not necessarily. It largely depends on your recommendation. But when it comes to it, we may have to.”  
Stiles swallowed a suddenly large lump on his throat. “This is big, Uncle Phil. I’m not sure I’m ready for this kind of responsibility Uncle.”  
Phil smiled sadly. “Which makes you the best man for the job, Stiles. The BUS, a SHIELD unit, has been dealing with weird and bizarre cases and has updated many SHIELD protocols to deal with the out of norm. I’ll set you up a meeting with them so you can at least have a feel of the works. I’ll also give you all the updated protocols so you can look over them yourself. By the end of the month, give me a draft of your protocols.”  
“Okay, sounds like a plan. I should also write something about the hunters. Not every monster does monstrous things. Sometimes humans are the real monsters.” Stiles said.  
“Eliminate the bias. Good call. I know this is a lot to ask but we have no other option.” Phil apologized.  
“It’s okay. A least the innocent supernatural has a chance now.”  
Stiles would work his ass off for this. This was the opportunity he never thought he’d have. If he did this right, he may just save a lot of innocent lives.


	21. Elvis Sang That Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles practices his magic. And After weeks of villain-induced interruption, he and Steve are finally going to be able to watch that movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept rewriting this chapter cause it veers to a very sad, depressing and triggering direction that I am simply not comfortable writing but finally, I've hit a magical blend of nostalgia, sadness and hope that I wish may convey the feelings I want you all to feel.

They finished their training before lunch. Stiles teleported Jackson, Clint, and himself back to the tower. Teleportation was becoming easier. He had been using it to move himself around the tower, popping in and out like a bubble just for the sake of practice. For a few times, he hand been able to wordlessly teleport himself.

Steve had suggested he used his magic to as part of his daily life so he would get used to it and use it like second nature. Practice makes perfect, right. Besides, Cap suggested so who was he to ignore it. It was not every day Captain America would personally work on your training.

So was not uncommon to see some tableware floating from the cabinets and arranging themselves when someone entered the kitchen. It wasn’t easy at first. He’d broken several kitchenware the first week. Heck, he made the sink explode and busted the pipelines when he just wanted to turn on the faucet.

Bruce was livid, or as livid as the mild manner man could be without turning green. Stiles was sure he had almost popped a vein. Kitchen were meant to be sacred. He almost got banned from the kitchen. Tony brushed Bruce’s anger with a hug and promised to revolutionize the pipeline industry tomorrow.

But it got better the succeeding days. His control got better. His drops got lower as the days passed. And now he just need to only look at something before it comes floating smoothly down the table.

Steve was the only one present when they arrived. Bruce and Tony were probably holed up in their lab and would not come out any day soon. Stiles learned very early on that the geniuses could get so absorbed in their experiments that they wouldn’t come out even for food. Natasha was also out and might be taking down a criminal mastermind as they speak or who knows what.

Steve smiled up as soon as he saw them. “You arrived just in time. Sit down and eat with me.”

“Gladly, I’m starving.” Stiles said and sat beside Steve. Jackson and Clint sat at the opposite side. “Whoa, this is a lot Steve.”

“I passed by your training this morning. I knew you’d be hungry so I made more than usual.”

“Thanks.” Stiles said.

Halfway through their food, Steve cleared his throat and asked Stiles if he will be busy later.

“No why?”

“I was thinking maybe we could watch that movie later.”

Jackson chocked on his food. Clint dropped his spoon and fork. And Stiles wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening but damn he could feel his face heating up like it was on fire. Coz even if he knew what Steve actually meant but the wrong idea caught him fast. Steve bless his naïve, golden heart was oblivious to what was happening. The soldier was looking at him hopefully.

“It’s been a rough week. And I did ask you. It is very rude of me to keep postponing it.”

“Oh my god.” Clint said as he stopped trying to pound the food out of Jackson. Jackson could only stare at them, eye bugling owlishly. Stiles looked at the two then back at Steve.

Steve frowned. “But if you have something else to do, we can do it some other time.” His smile dimmed and there was a bit of disappointment in his eyes. Stiles angrily kicked his packmates under the table to get their marbles back.

“No no no. I’m free. I mean there’s a few things I need to do. But it can wait. I’ll watch the movie with you later.” Stiles hurriedly said, blushing even more.

“I don’t want to impose-” Steve said.

“No you’re not.” Stiles said “I’m just surprised that you’d still remember.”

“I’m frozen in ice, Stiles. I’m not senile.” Steve said.

“Tell that to the timeline, grandpa.” Stiles retorted, automatically. He quickly remembered they were not alone. He quickly shut his mouth and glanced at his pack. Both of them were stunned with the exchange.

He and Steve had come along way. Ever since that night at Steve’s place, Stiles had become less starstruck, or rather _‘superhero-struck’_ and Steve became less formal. And they had realized that both of them were sarcastic and sassy and whole lot witty as hell. And soon they find themselves retorting each other. When they were alone, they could be like that. But they had never shown this side of their friendship with others. And his packmate could not believe what was happening.

“The hell. What’s in this food?” Clint asked, disbelievingly. Stiles kicked him again and Stiles was impressed that it never showed on his face.

“I know it’s delicious. Finish your food or you won’t be having any of my treats for the rest of your life, Barton.” Stiles said, giving the Archer a fake smile. Clint started chowing on his plate. Jackson snickered. Stiles turned his fake smile to the werewolf. Jackson paused before he swallowed fearfully. “And that goes for you too, Whitmore.” Jackson begins to wolf down his dinner.

“That’s a dirty but effective tactic. I wish I have that hold on the team during training.” Steve said.

“I’d let you use it if you can convince Uncle to stop Agent Ward from tailing us.” Stiles offered. Steve smiled, a smile that was taking into consideration the benefits of his offered.

“Oh come on! That’s too far.” Clint complained.

“Agent Ward is menace. He had a lot of the greenies sic on us. Not just one. Or two. There’s more than a dozens, Dude. More Than A Dozen. It’s like we’re some kind of target practice. And boy, were they serious at impressing Agent Ward.” Stiles noticed the uneasiness on Clint’s bond. He looked at his face and but the archer was casually eating his food. Too casually. Then he looked at Steve who was very consumed at eating his food. Stiles slumped on his sit. “Huh. So we’re the target practice.”

“It was for your own good.” Clint said.

“And it was a good training exercise for them.” Steve added.

“You’re not even going to deny it.” Stiles huffed. “I bet both of you had some in this.” Steve and Clint both nodded. Stiles rolled his eyes. “You know what. I don’t even know how to feel about this. But I’m halfway torn to being annoyed and touched.”

“Try feeling thankful. We’re just looking out for you, kid. You’re part of the team now.” Clint said, seriously.

Stiles looked at the archer. There was a fond smile playing on his lips. He looked at Steve and he saw the same expression. Jackson was peacefully eating his food. It gave him a vibe. A feeling. He couldn’t fight his lips from smiling. _He’s home._

“But still, more than a dozen is an overkill.” Stiles said.

“Who said it was just more than a dozen?” Clint asked rhetorically.

Stiles’ jaw dropped. That’s it. He hit the limit. He’s giving Agent Ward a piece of his mind. He pretty sure the agent wouldn’t touch him. _He hopes so._

 

 

 

Stiles took a deep breath before knocking on Steve’s door.

“Hold on. I’ll be there.” Steve answered.

Stiles shook his hands to get off the nervous energy.

Clint and Jackson had given him heavy shits when they were finally out of Steve’s ear shots. And they couldn’t let go of what they saw earlier. They were asking so many question. How long had this been going? Or how it had started? Clint mentioned how his Uncle Phil will have a heart attack.

Stiles hushed them both. And explained how Steve had invited him to a friendly movie date. He told them about Scotts call and Steve trying to cheer him up. His pack agreed that was more likely to happen than what was on their mind. Stiles wanted to indignantly protest but he could only agree. Call him out on his self-steam issues but who deserves Captain America?

But all those teasing washed away as soon as Steve opened the door and greeted him with a wide smile. “Come in.” Steve said excitedly. “Finally, we’re going to watch it. Everybody keeps saying how good it is.”

“You know you could have watched it without me.” Stiles pointed out.

“I can’t. I asked you. It’ll be rude to watch it without you.”

“I won’t mind.”

“But I do. Because it won’t be the same without you.” Steve admitted.

Stiles stepped inside Steve’s room. Steve closed the door behind him and he went to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll just finish the popcorn.”

Stiles went to the living room. The TV was paused at the beginning of the movie.There was a lot of food on the sofa table. Pizza, cheese pops, sodas. Stiles sat on the sofa looking at the food in front of him.

“Were you expecting the others?” Stiles asked

“No, I just didn’t know what you wanted.” Steve said as he takes out the popcorn from the kettle.

“I don’t know if that’s your logic or your appetite talking.” Stiles quipped.

Steve grinned at him. Like that smile could fool Stiles. He’d seen him wolf down half a dozen chicken wings in one sitting without pausing to drink water and finished another dozen on the same meal. Steve brought a giant bowl of popcorn and set it down the table.

Steve sat beside Stiles and played the movie.

Stiles tried to keep quiet and avoid spoiling the movie for Steve. But he couldn’t. He’d make a few remarks here and there. He’d cooed and laughed and ohhed. He’d thought Steve would be annoyed but the man would just glance at him and smile or sport the same expression. 

Stiles had leaned on Steve. He didn’t mean to. But he used to cuddle with Scott during their movie nights. And it felt just right. And Steve didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he moved just enough to make it comfortable for both of them.

“Ohana means family. And family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” Stiles chimed in on the scene. Tears welled up on his eyes and he couldn’t help the tears from falling down. He remembered how he obsessively used that word for rest of the year or when he dressed up as Stitch on Halloween and his mother as Lilo.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked softly.

Stiles nodded as he wiped away his tears. “I’m fine. I just remembered things.” Stiles said.

Steve nodded like he understood. May be he did. The older man tentatively wrapped around his arm around Stiles. Stiles just sunk into him. It felt like he was laying on his old bed back in Beacon Hills. Steve was warm, safe and cozy. They the rest of the movie curled up on each other, only moving every now and then to reach out for their snacks.

Stiles could feel Steve tense on some scenes. The worst one was when Stitch fell from the space ship. Stiles touched his legs and gave it a reassuring shake. Steve faced him with troubled look. Stiles smiled and said, “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be okay.”

Steve nodded and relaxed.

“So what do you think?” Stiles asked as the credits started to roll.

Steve faced him with a “It was good. Really good. And the art work.”

“It’s water colored.”

“Water colored?”                              

“The background or landscapes. They were all done in watercolor by hand.”

“Amazing.” Steve said. Stiles helped Steve clean the table and wash the dishes. Steve continued to ask him about the movie since he didn’t know most of the references. His eyes would glimmer when he finally understood it.

“Stiles.” Steve called his name and he looked up from the glass he was drying. “About earlier, when you cried. Do you want to talk about?” Steve asked.

Stiles continued to dry the glass but his eyes were elsewhere. “I used to watch that film with my mom. She was a Disney fan. Made me one too, I guess. Since I’m always up for a Disney movie. Never missed any premiere.”

Stiles felt like something heavy was pressed on his chest. But it wasn’t as bad as before. Not when Steve was listening earnestly. Something compelled him to say what he really wanted to say. He’d never really talk about this to anyone. Not to his shrink. Not even to Scott. But he felt like he could confide anything to Steve. Everything was just easier with Steve.

“It’s been years since she’s passed away. I know it should get better. But… it sometimes gets you like it was just yesterday. I just miss her so much sometimes.” Stiles put the glass on the cupboard. “It doesn’t really fade. I miss her now just as I missed her then. I’m usually pretty good at handling this but…” Stiles sighed.

“It gets you.” Steve said, sadly.

Stiles remembered the drawing of Steve’s mother. He frowned looking between his feet. “You miss her too.” Stiles spoke softly.

Steve smiled sadly, “Everyday.”

Stiles felt his heart broke for this man. So much pain and sadness but it only made him kinder and strong. He wanted to make all those go bad things go away.

“Yeah. Me, too.” Stiles said. “But mom wouldn’t want me to mope. And I bet your mom, too. Sorry if I made the night very depressing.”

“It’s fine, Stiles. It’s good to let out these things than keep it in. I hope it made you feel better.” Steve said sincerely.

“It does.” Stiles said, smiling bitter-sweetly. “You know… Mom would have baked us something to cheer us up.”

“Your mom sounds lovely. I would have love to meet her.”

“She would have loved to meet you too. She’s Phil’s sister you know. She grew up reading your stories alongside Phil. She would probably freak out if she had the chance to meet you.”

“Oh my gosh.” Steve said, chuckling. Stiles grinned at him. Phil had a gigantic mancrush on Steve. His mom would probably have too.  Stiles shook his head, smiling. His mom would have it much worst, Stiles did inherit his defective brain-to-mouth filter from her.

Stiles looked back at Steve. His eye were open and a small smile was playing on his lips. He wanted to see Steve more like this. Actually living his life. “You know what we should do this more often. I mean not just me and you. You know, with other people too.”

“I know what you mean Stiles. Everyone keeps telling me that. I do enjoy this new world. Just now how people expect me to.” Steve said, smiling fondly.

“How do you enjoy the new world, Cap?” Stiles asked curiously. May be he could help.

“It’s the small things that matters you know. Those are the things that I want to enjoy.” Steve mused.

Stiles digested Steve said for a moment. And the funny thing was he understood it. He already had a few ideas in his head. Stiles yawned.

“It’s late. You should head back to your room and get some shut eye.” Steve said.

“Yeah. Thanks for the movie and the food, Cap.” Stiles said.

“You’re welcome. And thank you for watching it with me. Let me walk you out.” Steve offered.

When Stiles was at the door, Steve asked if they could do it again and Stiles said yes. Steve smiled brightly at him and bid him good night. Stiles couldn’t help but smile back.

Jackson looked at him knowingly when he arrived at their room. His dopey smile gave it all away. Jackson rolled his eyes like it would roll off his sockets. Stiles gave him the bird.

Stiles dreamed blue eyes and cherry red lips that night. And that song that Elvis sang was playing in the background.


	22. Shield by Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' training was put to a test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, long time. hehehe Sorry for the very long hiatus. But here you go a new chapter.
> 
> Completely bonkers with editing, which means not edited at all. Would appreciate if you guys point out my mistakes.

“NO! You’re not doing this. You can be hurt.” Steve protested.

Stiles was going to test if his magic barrier was strong enough to hold off attacks that is not of supernatural nature. Bad guys would not use their fists in fighting them. He wanted to test it on bullets but he must admit that is far too dangerous. So he figured Tony could adjust the pressure of his repulsor and try to stun him while he was inside the barrier.

Thor would have been a good choice to experiment but he was back at Asgard. Bruce volunteered to be standby paramedics and gather data out of it. Jackson and Clint were on the sidelines and watching.

“I need to do this. You said it yourself, Steve. It’ll be too dangerous to test it during a fight.”

Steve glared at Stiles. Yup, Stiles had the balls to actually use the Super Soldier’s words against the man himself. Steve _was_ a punk. And it was rubbing on Stiles.  “You could seriously get hurt.”

Stiles shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.” Stiles said. Steve glared at Stiles.

“I’ll be the tester then.” Jackson announced.

“No.” Steve cut through everyone who were agreeing it was the logical choice. Jackson Could heal immediately from his injuries. Everyone looked at Steve. “Stiles’ power is built on belief and belief is built on conviction. If he has a solid reassurance that everything will be fine, his conviction will only suffice. Jackson heals immediately. The threat to his life is not imminent. Therefore, the foundation of your magic will be shaky.” Steve smiled, nodding to himself as his teammates stared at him with confusion. “It has to be me. I won’t heal as fast as Jackson. It’ll take a more than a day to heal from broken bones if the repulsor hits me.”

Stiles eyed Steve like he was crazy. Steve almost let a smirk out. He was always fascinated every time he could surprise Stiles.

“Oh no. You’re not doing this. What if my magic fails? No, this just-”

“Stiles!” Steve called the younger man from his fears. Stiles shut his mouth and looked at Steve worriedly. “It’s okay. You can do this. I believe in you.” Steve took a few steps back. “Shield me with your magic dust.” Steve said, smiling encouragingly.

“Are you sure about this? I mean we could postpone it till I get a better grip on my magic.” Stiles said.

Steve smiled again “We’re already here, Stiles. We might as well get on with it. “

Stiles poured out a bottle full of mountain ash powder. Instead of falling, it floats toward Steve. Steve watched in amazement as the ash moved around him to create a perfect black circle on the floor.

“Stiles, step back.” Tony said.

Stiles nervously nod and shuffled back to the team.

“On the chest Tony.” Steve said, standing at ease and baring his chest open for the attack.

Steve locked eyes with Stiles and smiled. He was trying to convey his trust, his faith, that it would be okay even if he fails. Stiles' breath hitched, overwhelmed by such intense confidence in him. He would not fail him. He would not let Steve fall into harm. Not when all the power he needed to prevent it was in the palm of his hands.

The mountain ash glowed blue and a blue transparent barrier glowed flared brightly around Steve.

A second later, a repulsor blast hit the shield.

Stiles heart stopped as the bright flash temporarily blinded him. When the white clears, there was Steve standing in the middle or the barrier, unharmed and smiling.

“Oh my god! It worked!” Stiles exclaimed jovially. Steve grinned at him.

 “Let’s test it further. Protect me while I move around.”

“Wait What? Steve no.” Stiles asked.

Steve jumped out of the circle. Stiles hurriedly infused a levitating spell on the ash and willed it to follow Steve. Tony fired. Stiles got a little late and Steve got hit by the repulsor blast. He was flung several feet away.

“Another.” Steve said as he got up.

“No.” Stiles rapidly infusing his magic on the barrier, moving the millions of tiny particles like he had done with the plates. Stiles needed to be faster. And he realized it was just one thing because his magic linked it all together and it feels like playing his videos games. And just like snap of his fingers, his magic moved according to his thoughts.

This time, Stiles managed to move the circle along with Steve and kept him inside safe. He could almost anticipate where Steve would go. May be the hours of practice with the soldier made him familiar of how Steve moves.

Then they started experimenting on how much his barrier could take. Tony fired his repulsor at increasing percentage. But it held, unscathed by the force. The Unibeam cracked it but Stiles was quick enough to mend the damage and pour more magic into. He was able to held the barrier until Tony run out of power. But it took a lot of magic to keep it from collapsing. All in all, it was pretty successful. In theory, it could stop bullets. They’ll have to test it out later on. This time, Jackson insisted that he should be the target.

 

***

 

Stiles received a text from Parrish, saying he was ready to talk about it. Stiles admitted he wasn’t that knowledgeable about the supernatural world. _Yet._ But he knew a guy who might be able to help. Parish asked if this was a trust worthy source. Stiles honestly said yes because the last time he visited the shop his senses told him so, like how his senses found Parrish.

There was a pregnant pause on the line before Parrish agreed. They set up a meeting with Jason on the next weekends. Stiles have to cancel his training.

 

***

 

 

 

Stiles woke up in the middle of the night when he felt a presence nudging for his attention. His heart raced, tense with the sudden intrusion of it and his magic rising swiftly from slumber.

“Stiles?” Jackson asked, tensely.

Stiles silence him with a hand sign before sitting cross legged and with knuckles together between his thighs. Like a Buddhist monk. Stiles entered the spirit plane. He came face to face with the astral form of Jayson. This was his first time here. He only knew the basics through theory. It’s cool and freaky at the same time. It was eerily quiet.

“I knew you’d figure it out.” Jayson said, his voice echoing unnaturally.

“This is all kinds of freaky and cool.” Stiles said, marveling at his echoing voice. “How is this echo happening? I’m not aware of this phenomenon.”

Jayson smiled at him. “The book doesn’t actually mention anything about this and I don’t know why it echoes here.”

“Why are you here anyways? You could have warped here easily. I got you exempted from the interdiction zone.”

Jayson face loses all pleasantness and became serious. “I don’t want to frighten you but there’s a situation going on. Multiple situations actually.”

Stiles nodded, tensely. “It’s the reason I can only come here through this form. There’s an uprising going on. The followers of Chthon are trying to bring their master back to our world. Our problem is multiple attempts are happening across the world and it’s more than we can handle.”

Jayson summoned a book out of thin air and it floated to Stiles. Weird thing is Stiles can actually touch it.

“That book contains all that we know about the ritual. I’ve marked the parts explain the things that are actually happening now and some others that are essentially useful. I want you to study that in this plane to give you time.”

“Because time moves slower here. But why me? Why now?”

“Because you might need to intervene. We fear that another ritual is going to happen but we don’t have anyone who can respond. We’re already spread thin.”

“What about the White Council?” Stiles asked, “I’m sure Harry Dresden will-“

Jayson chuckled and grinned in spite of the gravity of the situation. Stiles came to a sudden realization. “Oh my god. What the fuck, dude? Why didn’t you tell me I was bossing around the head of the White Council?”

Jayson Harry smiled fondly at Stiles. But then his form begins fading in and out. “Dude, are you okay?”

“The enemy is trying to break the barrier through this. I have to go. I have my trust in you.”

Jayson vanished. And Stiles was thrown back to the real world.

“Stiles? What happened?”

“Something bad is happening.”

Jackson almost jumped out of the bed when he saw the sudden appearance of a book. “And that book has something to do about it?”

Stiles’ grip tightened on the book’s covers. “It might be our only hope at stopping it. I need to study this.”

Stiles went back to the spirit plane and poured over the pages Harry marked. The book was more advance than anything Stiles have. This wasn’t something a beginner like him could handle.

Stiles felt the moment his uncle Phil entered the building. He knew the team were waiting for him. He felt Tony’s concern when he received the call for a mission.

Stiles came back to his body. Stiles closes the book with a sigh. Jackson halted on his warm up exercise. He met Jackson inquiring gaze with a serious expression, “Suit up.”

Jackson nodded. He wasn’t surprised when Jarvis informed them he was need in the common area. Stiles tested his gloves, flexing his fingers before he looked at Jackson stood proudly in his suit, ready to fight. “We’re up.”

 

 

Stiles heart was pounding. It was his first mission with the Avengers. Jackson had come along as well. He didn’t need to but they were partners. Where one is, the other is not far behind.

There were some reports about people becoming demon like creatures. Stiles was able to identify it as the same creature in the book Harry gave him and found a way to break the curse. It was almost eerily calming when stepped into the Avenger quinjet in his suit together with Jackson.

Somehow, the all of the Avengers were free and offered to be back up. Stiles and Jackson knew what was going on and they were silently thankful for the support. The docked on the bus midway and meet with the Bus team.

Stiles was confident he could take on the curse and caster who casted it. The curse spreads through bite or contact with the saliva of the creatures. Just to be on the safe side, Stiles casted a protection spell on the Avengers and everyone else on the Bus, using his mountain ash as a medium.

 “Agent Johnson. You may know me as Quake.” The black hair woman greeted as held out her hand.

“Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.” Stiles shook her hand. Stiles had an unsettling feeling when he touched Daisy. He almost immediately let go. “You’re not entirely human.” Stiles stated.

Daisy titled his head, “Huh.”

“I’m so sorry. I did not mean to say that out loud nor do I mean it as something derogatory.” Stiles quickly apologized.

Daisy grinned. “It’s okay kid. I was just surprised. How you did you know?” Daisy asked.

“I don’t know. I just felt something else was a part of you. Something not human.” Stiles answered honestly.

Then he was suddenly being questioned by another woman and a man. It’s like facing two Lydias at the same time who actually talk to him. He was a little bit overwhelmed.

“Fitz. Simmons.” Agent Coulson reprimanded. “That’s enough. You can talk to him after the mission if he wants to.”

The two apologized and everyone moved to the central room and discussed their strategy.

Stiles explained the nature of the curse. It didn’t take much research because the curse has telltale signs. All they needed to do is destroy its center or, if it comes to worse, kill the caster. Stiles was a little shaky when he said last one. He had confirmed it to Jayson. There were two ways to implement the curse. Either a ritual altar was erected or the caster sold their soul to someone to receive the mark of Chthon.

Stiles also confirmed that it could spread through bite and he added that a scratch from their claws was another way.

Stiles stepped back from the table having given the information they needed. It was quiet for a moment and Stiles had to looked around. Everyone was looking expectantly at him. Stiles felt dread lodged on his throat.

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked, a little shaken.

“This is your field, Stiles.” Steve said. The serious professional tone on Steve’s voice makes Stiles shiver. Stiles turned to him and they locked eyes. “Talk us through your game plan.”

Steve knew he had been thinking of how to go through this mission since he heard it. The older man nod at Stiles to encourage him. He’d been with Stiles from the day one. Steve knew Stiles could do it.

“First is we have to ensure the safety of civilians. Evacuate everyone. The more of them to infect, the stronger her army will be.”

“We’ve already started the evacuation prior to contacting you. We’ve covered up to 60 percent of the city’s population as of now.” Daisy reported.

“Good. Second, is to prevent the spread. I’ll put up a barrier around the city to prevent them from infecting on a larger scale.”

“That pretty large area. Can you manage that?” Agent Coulson asked.

“I can manage it but only in a short period of time. But there’s a chance some have already cross the city perimeter.”

“How about we draw them back in?” Cap suggested. “We attack the caster’s liar under the presence of a direct assault and them box them in.”

Stiles paused considering before he nodded. “Guerrilla tactics should make her move. But it must be kept long distance.” Stiles brought up the holographic 3d map of the city. “I could feel her here. Ironman, Thor and Hawkeye, could start here and here and here.” Stiles indicated their positions on the map. “Draw her out. Make it extra flashy.”

“Have you met us?” Tony asked with a mischievous smirk.

“When I close the city, there should be units taking of those who escaped.”

“We’ll take care of it.” Phil said.  

“Then I have to go to the source of the curse and destroy it. Cap, Jackson, Natasha, you come with me on the ground.” Stiles turned to agent Johnson. “Agent Johnson, we haven’t trained yet but I feel you’ll be better with us.”

Daisy fastened her gauntlet. “They don’t call me ‘Quake’ for nothing.”

 

 

They were heading to the source. Stiles rapidly fires paralyzing spell one after the other and demons continues to fall unmoving. Behind him were the ground team consisting of Jackson, Black Widow, Quake and Captain America who was using Icers. Miraculously, the dendrotoxins were working on the demons somehow. In air, Thor and Iron had engaged with the caster but they weren’t doing any damage on her. Bruce sit this one out. They didn’t risk the possibility of a hulked out demon on the enemy line.

“Do not kill the demons. They are innocent. Just under the control of the caster.” Stiles ordered the team implicitly. Nobody had to die. Not when they could be saved.

The first part plan had worked. They were able to draw back most of the demons back to the center of the city. Stiles erected the city wide barrier. I took almost a quarter of his magic and was slowly chipping away at the remaining part. He could hold it up for several hours.

The caster was black-haired, pale woman with bloodshot eyes. Her pupils were glowing red. She laughs with a tone that is unmistakably not human.

“Is she possessed?” Captain America asked.

“Not completely.” Stiles said. “For some reason he could not fully possess her. He could only influence her and channel his power to her.”

Finally, they arrived in some kind of an altar, glowing with red undesirable energy. Stiles could feel the hair on his arms stood and a sickening churning in his stomach. The energy was heavily tainted with darkness; his instincts forced his magic to enveloped him in a protective aura.

There were hooded figures around the altar. Stiles could feel the same undesirable energy from them. “Be careful. Do not let them touch or hit you.” Stiles warned his team.

Stiles sent some of his mountain ash to his teammates. It circled around them individually and it moves as they move. Stiles signaled the ground team to engage. They quickly subdued the hooded figures guarding the altar.

Stiles started on the counter curse. He traced the sigil through the air, his magic the only calming light among the chaotic energy surrounding them. He could feel the air starting to get cleansed with hand movement. This was supposed to be a group ritual. What with the amount of magic needed and the powerful being he was trying to banish the influence from the land, it was certainly suicidal.

Harry had informed him that this ritual was being performed across the world. Magic users of all caliber had banded together and are trying to stop it from completing. Just one successful ritual and hell could break loose.

Stiles didn’t know why Jason entrusted him with this one but he could not fail.

 “Stiles!” He heard his name called before he was being dragged away, his sigil disintegrated. They fell down and rolled away. A beam of red light poured over where he stood a second ago. When the light was gone, the ground was glowing with molten rocks.

Stiles looked up only to find the caster about to fire another one. Stiles frantically raised a shield to protect himself and who ever just saved him. Stiles felt the concussive force of impact when the energy beam hit his shield. Then a continuous barrage of energy blast followed, trying to breakthrough. Stiles strained with keeping his shield from breaking apart.

The barrage stopped but it was followed with a strong explosion.

“Let’s go.” Stiles heard Steve shouted before he was bodily hauled to his feet. Stiles shrinks his Shield to the size of Steve’s shield and they were running away, through thick dusts and rubbles. Stiles warily looked back making sure he wouldn’t be caught off guard.

He could hear Jackson shouting to hurry up. They vaulted over a building wall that must have collapsed due to the fight. Stiles immediately expanded his shield to cover everybody.

 Stiles could see the worry on Jackson’s face. Stiles touched his shoulders. “I’m fine.” Jackson nodded.

“We need to take her down.” Black Widow stated coldly. She touched his shoulders and looked straight at Stiles eyes. “If you could take down her shield, we’ll do the rest.”

“You’ll get blood on your hands.” Stiles said a little hysterically.

A strong explosion got their attention. It was raining red lighting outside. Thor crashed through a building

“Guys, I’m running out of ammo.” Ironman warned them.

“Stiles.” Black Widow called his attention back to her. Her eyes were open and searching. “I have a history full of red. I became an Avenger because of that. Not all heroes are innocent. But each of us has a choice. I’ve made mine a long time ago. It’s up to you what you’ll choose to be.”

Stiles could feel his eyes tear up. There was something vulnerable and honest about her words, something that is also dark, sad and tragic that breaks Stiles heart.

Stiles took a deep breath and let it out. He nodded and finally he said, “I’ve got something. But I have to take down the shield.”

“We got you covered, Stiles.” Captain America assures him

Stiles proceed on preparing the spells he needed.

“Done. I need a diversion.” Stiles requested to the coms.

“On it.” Ironman said.

“Thor, gather up some sparks and follow me. Hawkeye give us some cover.”

“Diversion: incoming.”

Stiles saw a barrage of small missile heading toward he caster. Iron man had blinded here with his repulsors. Stiles summon magical roots from the ground and it weaves around her shield, squeezing, trying to shatter the it. Stiles threw his magic stick like a javelin at caster. It passed through the barrier like a hot knife cutting butter. The witch was petrified, disbelieving that someone could break through Chthon’s barrier.

“Thor now!”

Thor sent torrents of lightning to the witch. Magic stick absorbed the lightning and sent it to the witch. Then shield was filled with lighting and when it died down, the witch was lying unconscious on the ground.

Stiles checked her pulses. There was a heartbeat. Stiles encased her hands with mountain ash and gave her a silencing spell.

Stiles walked to the altar until he could almost touch it. Stiles started again on breaking the curse.

He was halfway through the sigil when several demons came swooping down to attack him, he raised his guard but Steve managed to intercept him.

“Don’t worry about them. Concentrate on the counter curse. We got your back.”

Stiles looked around. The team had surrounded him in a loose circle pushing back the hordes of demons trying to get to the altar and the caster. Stiles nodded.

“Steve wait.” Steve turned back at him. Stiles held out his magic stick Steve. “It’ll help you.”

Steve nodded, and turned his back, ready to defend him. Stiles turned back on the curse and started to perform the counter curse. Blue light gathered in front of him, forming into circular sigil. When it was complete, Stiles pushed it to the altar.

But then, it the sigil hit something and it exploded upon contact. Stiles was thrown back away.

The altar was encased in a prism of green force field.

“Stiles!”

“I’m okay. It has protection. I didn’t expect it to be that strong.”

The caster had anticipated someone will try to break the curse. She placed several protection rune stones around and she added a tethering spell to the ley lines to gather the energy of the Earth. That’s why it was so powerful. Even if she died, the protection wouldn’t disappear instantly and it would also explain why she was so cocky in spite facing the Avengers.

The problem was the energy of the Earth _is_ overwhelming. Even with a just few feet away from one of the torrent of magic surging to curse, Stiles could feel the its pressure pushing him back. But he has a feeling, bubbling inside his gut. He took a leap of faith and trusted his guts.

He let his magic cover his hand like a glove and grabbed on to the torrent of energy. It should have incinerated him, turned his unholy hands into ashes. Instead its rushing to him like a gust of spring wind, neither harsh nor gentle. But it feels utterly familiar, like he was touching his own hair.

Stiles grinned. He pulled at the tethering spell and the broke it apart it to millions of glowing dust that faded almost immediately. The altar loses its green glow. Stiles pushed the green glowing energy back under the ground and through his magic, forced it to calm down.

“Yes!” Stiles shouted.

Without the external power boost, the protection spells were vulnerable. Stiles dismissed them with a wave of his hand and he hit the alter with the counter curse. His magic glowed tremendously saturating the alter with a brilliant blue glow. It shook and cracked and shattered into a million shards of blue fractals and specks. An omnidirectional wave of magic emanated from the center.

The demon like creatures changed back into their original human forms as the magic travels through them.

Stiles touched his ear piece and reported in. “The threat has been neutralized. The curse has been broken. Please help the victims. Give them some replenishments. The transformation is bound to leave them drained.”

“Good job, Spark.” Stiles heard Captain America said over the coms. 

Stiles looked at the super solder who was beaming him a proud smile. Stiles grinned at that. “Thanks, Cap.”

Stiles performed purifying spell before they left. He needed to rid of all the nasty energy left behind by the ritual and hopefully also cleanse the ley line of any remnants of influence from Chthon. Bluish dust of light emanates from his fingers and scatter all over the city.

SHIELD took care of the caster and would be tasked with the cleanup.

“Nice work, kid.” Tony told him, giving him a pat on the back.

Thor suddenly draped his arms all over Stiles’ shoulder. “Aye. Friend Stiles, your battle strategy served well to vanquish our enemy! I say we feast to celebrate your victory!”

“Like a lot of festive food. This mission sure do made me hungry.” Clint threw innocently at him.

Stiles gave him the side eye. “This mission was to save the world- not a way to sweet talk me to making you treats, Barton.”

Clint shrugged his shoulders. “Same difference.”

Stiles took a seat beside Steve. They Avenjet took off, heading back home. Steve gave back his magic stick. Stiles took it back with a grateful smile.

“You did a good work out there, Stiles.” Steve told Stiles.

“I have a great teacher.” The younger man responded, respectfully

Stiles decided to check in on Harry. Stiles expected it to be difficult but it looks like their barrier was already down. Stiles got worried. What if they failed? But then he felt Harry’s presence. Stiles casted a communication spell.

Stiles asked what had happened. Harry told Stiles that the warlock they were facing made himself the altar and had used the rune stone to protect himself from everything anyone could throw at him. Not even a nuke could kill him. Then suddenly, the rune stones lost their power and it was piece of cake after then.

Harry surmised a lot of people must have sacrificed themselves to shut of the power of the ley lines.

“You mean that glowing green energy needed a sacrifice to stop?” Harry grunted an affirmative sound.

“Stilinski, you asshole!” Jackson bellowed before the werewolf tackled him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Stiles melted in the werewolf’s arms, shaken a little bit by the revelation.

“Stiles?” Harry asked, voice full of concern.

“I might have touch the green glowing energy. I had to. But I’m fine and alive.”

“I knew you could do it!” Jackson growled at the glowing sphere in front of Stiles. “I better make myself scarce in the meantime. Get some rest, Stiles. The other altars had already been destroyed.”

The spell ended. It was eerily quiet in the jet. Everyone was looking at him.

“You had officially risked your life to save the world. Welcome to the team.” Tony said, offering him a shot of something alcoholic. Steve glared at Tony. “Right. Underage. More for me then.”

That put almost everyone on ease. Jackson still wouldn’t let him go. And when Stiles looked at Steve, there was something in Steve’s eyes that wasn’t there before. Steve blink and it was gone before Stiles could figure out what it was.

Thor and Clint started listing the desserts they want to eat.

“You know what?” Stiles made sure he was loud enough to interrupt the two. “I’m baking Steve’s favorite.”

Steve perked up. Clint and Thor immediately objected. Jackson pulled back from his embrace and groaned.

“Suck it up. I love a good old American apple pie.” Stiles said in a very fake Yankee accent. Everyone was not impressed with Stiles, except Steve who was confused why everyone didn’t seem to like apple pie. They seemed to like it last time Stiles made them one.

“I’d like to have some apple pies too actually.” Steve said, supporting Stiles.

Clint face palmed, literally. Thor looked almost appalled. Bruce and Natasha raise a perfectly curve eye brow. Jackson glared at Stiles. If Steve didn’t realize the blatantly obvious crush Stiles has on him, no had to tell him. Although, Stiles could see Thor very much itching to proclaim Stiles’ adoration with a might bellow.

“That’s it. I need more shots.” Tony announced.


	23. Gentle Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve came home from a mission a little less like himself. Stiles was worried. And a bit of magic somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!! Another Chapter. This had been sitting on my documents for more than a year. Like I wrote this before chapter 16 I think. Way before the last chapter. I just had to polish it a little. Inspired by Shining by Years and Years. If you don't know check it out before you read it if you can. Hope to see you all again on the next update. And also, I think I can finish this fic before the year ends. Most of the remaining chapter are half done. I'm just thinking of a few fillers here and there. That's all. Enjoy! ^_^

The Avenger’s got a call from Washington. Something about a skyscraper overruled by some armored psychotic clowns. Stiles shivered. He never did like clowns. It wasn’t magical in nature so they weren’t included. Stiles did try to climb aboard the quinjet but Steve just Clint had been waiting for him. He laughed guiltily and walked backward with placating hands.

So while no one was there to supervise their training, Coulson told them to exercise their individual ability. Stiles with his grasp on his magic and Jackson with shifting.

It took the Avengers half day to resolve the issue. When Steve came in, his greeting was stiff and short and his smile was forced. Throughout the dinner, he was strangely quiet. He’d ask about their day but the it was more out of politeness.

“What’s wrong with Steve?” Stiles asked when the man has gone to be bed earlier than normal.

“Just let him go kid. Some things get you deeper than most.” Clint said.

Stiles’ brow furrowed as he gazed at the door Steve had disappeared into. “But he looked so sad.”

 

***

 

Stiles planned to meditate early morning to control his dust more delicately. Dawn is when magic stirs awake, potent and full of promise. He went to the kitchen to have something heavy to build up his energy and concentration before he started his training.

But then he sensed someone outside, awake in the early hours. He didn't expect to find anyone up already. Stiles could feel the familiar steady aura of a certain super soldier, with a hint of something gloomy. Curious on why the super soldier was up and about earlier than him, he abandoned his food and went to the open deck.

Steve was sitting on the outdoor sofa, sketch pad on his lap and a charcoal pencil on his fingers. Stiles knocked on the wall to get Steve’s attention. The Soldier looked his way upon hearing him. Steve didn’t smile as brightly as he usually did whenever they meet. He must still be affected by whatever transpired yesterday. Stiles felt the need to give the man some space.

"Hey, Cap. Good morning. Didn't expect anyone up here so early. I'm just gonna go." Stiles said, backing away.

“Stiles.” Steve called. Stiles halted on his tracks and looked back expectantly at Steve. "Stay." Steve asked.

"I don't want to bother yo-"

"No, you are not." Steve cut the nervous babble. Steve scooted over and patted the space he just vacated.

Stiles smiled at Steve. He walked over to him and sit beside him. He placed his spell book on his lap.

Cold wind blew and Stiles shivered.

"It's cold." Stiles commented, rubbing his arms.

"We can share body heat." Steve offered, lifting his arms.

Stiles stared dumbfounded at Steve. Because, Steve plus body heat could do that even to his brain.

"Yeah we could do that." Stiles said, trying to be casual only for his voice to pitch high at the last word.

Steve wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulder and pulled him flushed against his side. Stiles timidly wounded his arm around Steve's waist.

"Thanks. You're like a human furnace, like Jackson when he cuddles me when we sleep." Stiles said.

"It's the serum. It helps my body adjust to my environment." Steve explained.

“Uhm... The serum is amazing. I wonder if Doctor Erskine based it on a werewolf. Everything seems to be patterned on a werewolf's powers. Just a little less potent and you know, no urge to main and eat me."

 _Wouldn’t mind being eaten by you, Cap, though_ , Stiles mused. Which, he stopped from staying to long cause that just lead to dangerous roads.

“It is possible.” Steve conceded. His mind backtracked on a topic. It has been haunting bugging him for a while now. It shouldn’t be an issue but it was for more than one reason he might be afraid to admit. “Hmm… I know it's none of my business, but are you and Jackson...?”

Stiles stared at Steve. “A thing?" Stiles asked, unsure. Steve nod. Stiles was surprised then he doubled over laughing at the very notion. “No! God no!”

“But you said you two cuddle together...” Steve trailed off as Stiles laughed harder.

“Now that you mentioned it, we do look like a _thing_. But seriously, if we ever get on it, _(grimacing)_ the universe might as well break.”

“So you're not a thing but you two sleep together?” Steve asked.

“No. definitely not. Nah-uh. It's a werewolf thing. Werewolves are tactile creatures. They want to surround themselves with their pack when they're in a new territory. For safety and comfort purposes.”

Stiles looked away, mulling over something before he stared back at Steve. “But if ever, _completely_ _hypothetically_ speaking, we were a thing, would it bother you?” Stiles nervously tapped his finger on his book and his jaw ticked with tension.

“My 40's sensibilities, as Tony likes to put it, would not be offended when I see two men kissing.” Steve took a deep breath before he continued. He had never admitted about this to anyone. Not even Bucky. He didn’t have any idea why he is saying now. But it felt just right. “Besides, it'll be hypocritical of me if I were.”

“What?” Stiles asked, uncomprehending. His eyes were blinking owlishly at him. Steve might have broken the kid.

“What do you call it these days? ... Hmmm... Bisexual? Right that one.” Steve cracking a nervous but coy smile.

“Ow… Huh… did not see that one coming.” Stiles muttered, still stunned.

“Why? Because I’m a white man from the 40’s?”

“No…” Stiles says, unsure. Steve looked at him unimpressed. “Hmm Yes??? I mean. You’re Captain America. You are the exemplary of what it means to be American. But then again, you are Captain America, the Sentinel of Liberty and Freedom.”

Steve looked away, up at the dark sky. He smiled sadly at what Stiles said. People had put him in a pedestal like some perfect figurine. They always expect him to be flawless. He didn’t know how to deal with it.

“But I am not always Captain America.” Steve told Stiles, like he was saying a secret. May be he was. He was letting Stiles see a vulnerable part of him. “I am also and will always be Steve Rogers, trying be a good man. I’m not a perfect soldier. Most of the time people forget that I’m also human. I feel just as much as you do. And I have just as much control as you do when it come here.” Steve pointing at his heart.

Steve felt Stiles pulled him closer

“I don’t know what to say.” Stiles said.

Steve gave Stiles a reassuring squeeze. “I just want to know if you accept me as I am.” Steve looked at Stiles expectantly.

“It would be hypocritical of me not to.” Stiles said with a one side mischievous smile.

Something in Steve’s stomach flattered. He smiled at Stiles.

“What are you doing here anyway? It's like 4 in the morning. You should be asleep.” Stiles asked, trying to change the subject before he tried to do something stupid like kiss the hell out of Steve.

Steve glanced at the younger man, his amber eyes almost black under the early morning sky looking earnest and somehow demanding of nothing but honesty. Not that he was going to lie. He wasn't. It was just he was embarrassed by this weakness and a year of deflecting this issue made him more than a little uncomfortable discussing it.

“I... I couldn't sleep.” Steve said.

Stiles sat straighter when he hears the melancholy in the soldier's voice.

“Steve, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, talking about it will help you.”

Steve took a deep breath. He stared at his feet.

"It's the cold and water. Every time I close my eyes, I see water. It endless and cold and it makes me feel alone. Most of the time I can ignore it like when we're on a mission or when we have movie nights. The worst is when I'm alone, it's a bit overwhelming sometimes."

"Steve, you're not alone anymore. You got yourself a team that will do anything for you. You got Tony, Bruce, Thor, Natasha, Clint, my uncle. Whatever it's worth, you also got me."

"Stiles, you’re worth more than you can think of." _You’re worth more to me than you can think of_ , Steve thought to himself. A notion that surprised himself. He offered the younger man a small but sincere smile. Stiles smiles back at him.

Stiles decided to ask what had been bothering since yesterday. “Steve, about yesterday. You seemed really upset. Do you want to talk about it?” Stiles asked.

Stiles could feel Steve tense. Maybe he struck something bad. Clint did tell him to leave it be. “Maybe some other time. I’m fine now. Don’t worry about it.”

Stiles nodded, not wanting to push hard and force Steve to close off.

“What about you? What are you going to do here?”

“I was going to practice my magic. Dawn is the best time to do that because it’s when magic is most “flexible” said the book.”

“Ow… maybe I should leave you-”

“Don’t!” Stiles shouted, placing a hand on Steve’s lap when the man was about to stand. Steve stilled and the muscles beneath his touch tensed. Steve sat back down. “I mean, you don’t have to leave. You can stay and watch me do magic. I swear I’m not going to make anything go boom. Again.”

“I-maybe I’ll disturb your concentration.”

“It’s okay. It’s just practice. Besides, it won’t be quiet when I actually use it in the field. It’s okay if you don’t want to watch. I’m not forcing you to stay and watch me ‘cause this’ll be boring.”

“Stiles, you are going to do magic. The very thought of it can never be boring.” Steve smiled. “Show me then.”

“Okay, wait just… hold this.” Stiles gave him the small vial half full of mountain ash. Stiles produce the hunter’s knife from his belt but then Steve grabbed his right hand and stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, worriedly.

“I need blood for this to work.” Steve’s eye widened at that. “Don’t worry. I just need a drop or two.”

Steve nodded and let go of his hand. Stiles nicked his left middle finger and let as much blood drop from the site into the vial.

Stiles covered the vial and Steve’s hands with his own.

“ _I need you to be my extension, to protect everyone, especially the people I love._ ” Stiles uttered the _spell_ and pushed his magic into the vial, to the black powder of mountain ash.

Steve could feel Stiles hands became warmer and soon the vial was warm, too. But it was not uncomfortable to hold. Stiles guided Steve’s hand to uncover the vial. The mountain ash was glowing blue, bright and glinting. Like the Tesseract. Some of it had spilled on his palm. But unlike the Tesseract that was hot and burning, it was giving off gentle warmth. Steve stared at it awed and then he looked back at Stiles who was smiling, face illuminated by the soft glow of the magic powder. He couldn’t help but stare at Stiles. There was something ethereal about him, the glow made all the rough edges in his expression soft, like some otherworldly fae. 

“Beautiful.” Steve said, not knowing if it was directed at the magic or at the young man.

“Let’s test it.” Stiles said grinning. Steve nodded. Stiles took the bottle and shook a little more powder on Steve’s hand. “Throw it up in the air.”

Steve closed his hands and threw the powder up in the air just like what Stiles said. It stops about three inches above his fingertips before it burst outward and rained down, as if hitting an invisible dome around him and Stiles. It landed in a perfect circle and somehow it had gotten a lot more than what he had thrown. It dimmed until it was black again and the air shifted, warming up.

“It’s getting warmer.” Steve noted.

“I’ve added spell on it. It’s supposed to make the area comfortable for the people inside it.” Stiles said. “I could do this to your bed later.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll just come up here.”

Stiles dismissed the notion. “What’s magic for if you can’t help a friend?” Stiles asked rhetorically then winked cheekily at Steve.

Steve smiled. “Hey what if I teach you magic?”

“What?”

“Like simple stuffs. Like a warming spell. Or even better a healing magic. It’ll be very beneficial on the field.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. “But I don’t have magic.”

Stiles grinned that mischievous grin that Steve had learned to be wary of. Trouble is brewing and he’d be the center of it.

“I have a plan.” Stiles said, winking. Something tells Steve this was going to work very well but he ain’t backing down. He never did know how to back down from a challenge.


	24. Smoke and Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles accompanied Jordan to Harry's place to figure out his identity crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler but not. It's heavily link on the second book. But I felt obliged to write this to do justice for ever having the guts to bring Jordan here in this fic.

“Are you ready?” Stiles asked. They were at the doorstep of Harry’s Antique shop. Stiles had decided to go alone with Jordan. That decision was met with negative outrage. Everyone wanted to accompany him. Or at least one of them. Jackson was furious. Stiles tried to console him with promise of treats but that did not stop the werewolf from pouting until he left.

It took a bit of convincing to let him go alone. He even mentioned that it was SHIELD agent that he was helping to placate them.

But still, he could sense Jackson and Clint trying to follow him as overtly as they can. They can’t really disappear because of the pack bond. It lets him constantly know whenever they are close. He can also use it to trace them.

What surprised Stiles was the third person following him. It was Steve. Steve trusted him with his abilities now. Ever since his first official mission, the man had come to see him on equal footing. Less of a trainee more of a comrade. So why was he tailing him too? Stiles heart skipped a beat at the question.

Jordan huffed impatiently but his eyes were shifting nervously. “Let’s get this over.” The agent said with finality.

Stiles nodded. He opened the door and they went inside the antique shop. Harry was at the counter holding a book but he was looking at them when they came in.

Harry jumped over the counter. They greeted each other.

“Hey, man. This is Jordan Parrish. The guy I asked you for help. Jordan, this is Harry Dresden.” Stiles explained.

They shook hands. Harry make a surprised note. “Nice to meet you.”

“I hope you’ll know what I am.”

“I’ll do my best. Follow me.” They were led at back of the shop. Harry did some test. He took some blood.

“Stiles could you help set up some protective wards. This is just in case something bad comes into the picture.” Jordan nodded.

Stiles claps his hands together and started infusing magic between his palms. He separated his hands and light shines upon the room. The walls glowed blue at first and dimmed back to normal. But Stiles could feel his magic on the walls.

Harry looked at him like he had grown another head. Stiles panicked.  “What? What did I do wrong?”

“That’s the Shield of Seraphim. Or at least felt like it. But you did it without invoking, not even an incantation.” Harry was impressed. “This is above what you should be able to do.”

Stiles was confused because he knew what Harry was talking. To be able to cast that spell, you need to have a contract with Seraphim or in the least have a magical relic of him. “But it’s not the Shield of Seraphim. I can’t invoke him. I don’t have a contract with him. I just casted standard protection spell against evil.”

Harry nodded at Stiles’ explanation, seemingly convinced. “You and I have something important to discuss. Later. Right now, let’s focus on this problem.” Harry turned back to Jordan. “Jordan, if you could tell us anything that may of help to us. Anything out of ordinary that you can remember.”

Jordan’s brows furrowed as he tried to recall the weird things that had happened to him. “Well… I’ve been having these black outs. It doesn’t happen often. Probably 3 to 6 months apart. I always wake up to the smell of smoke and ashes.”

Stiles looked at Harry who has a hand rubbing his chin. “I could think of several creatures that fit that description… Do you know when this started? When was the first black out you have?”

Jordan looked at Harry then at Stiles. “Do you trust him explicitly?” Jordan asked Stiles gravely.

“If this is about your work, I would. We he actually does and what we do is basically almost the same thing.” Jordan kept searching his eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Jordan nodded. “I’m a part of a security organization. During one of my missions at my Afghanistan, we were ambushed. Everyone on my team died on that mission.”

“Except you.”

Jordan shook his head. “I was dead.”

Stiles head titled in a curiosity and bafflement.

“But you are here. And alive.” Stiles stated.

“That’s the thing. Because I was ready to die that day. I was covering for civilians, I think. A group of children. I remember something piercing my back and going right through my chest.” Jordan’s hand came up to his chest, near his heart. “I should be dead but here I am without any scars. Even my old scars are gone.”

“Did you experience any urge to kill? Or to right some wrong? Or hunt something?” Harry further inquired.

“No.” Jordan was appalled. “I’d never do that.”

“I’m not asking about your morality. I’m asking you if your urges have shifted to something different than before the incident in Afghanistan. And I want you to be honest.”

Jordan took a deep breath. “No, I haven’t felt any of that.”

Harry nodded. “I think I have narrowed it down but I have to make some tests.” Harry snapped and a candle materialized on the table near Jordan. Harry snapped again and the candle’s wick ignited with fire.

“I want you to touch the fire.” Harry said.

“What? No! Are you out of your mind.” Stiles protested.

“It’s okay, Stiles. I think I know what he wants to confirm.” Jordan said.

Jordan hovered a finger over the fire. He took a deep breath before he plunged his finger into the fire. Stiles looked away, icky with just the thought of it. When he looked back, Jordan’s finger was still in the fire but the miraculous thing is it wasn’t burning and Jordan wasn’t screaming in pain. The man was watching his finger in awe.

“You’re immune to fire.” Stiles stated. Jordan tested his other finger and his palm and nothing happened to them.

“Jordan, how about your dreams? Do you dream of dogs? Or souls?” Jason asked.

“A couple of times but nothing bizarre or realistic.”

Harry hummed in disappointment.

“But there’s a sound I keep hearing.” Jordan said.

Harry titled his head in interest. “Do expound.”

“I never heard it before. But it feels like I know it. And sometimes it’s melodious to hear. Almost like a song.”

“Like a bird?” Harry looked at Jordan.

Jordan mulled over it for a second. “Now that you mention it, it does.”

Harry sat up straight. He snapped his fingers and a book appeared on his hands. He began to skim through it.

“Did you woke up covered in ashes?” Harry asked. Stiles looked dubiously at Harry.

“I did. Why?”

Harry slides the book in front of Jordan.

“Because of this.” It was opened on a page with a drawing of a bird.

“A Phoenix?” Jordan asked.

“It makes sense. You coming back alive. Immunity to fire. And that bird like sound, it could only be a phoenix’ song.” Harry said.

“But aren’t they like I don’t know… Birds?” Stiles asked incredulously

Harry gave him a flat look. “This is not conclusive yet. For all I know this is a shifter race living in secret or a phoenix transferred its power on to him. I’ll have to do some more research. I could only think of two sure ways to confirm this assumption.  One is to have to kill you and see if you revive again.”

Stiles jaw dropped on that. And Jordan looked at him offended.

“Or two, train yourself to bring out your abilities and see if it manifests like a Phoenix.”

“It’d like the latter. Training I could do.”

“Okay, I’ll contact Stiles as soon as I could find something solid. Meanwhile, I think you could train with Stiles and that hairy buddy of his. He’s not still pissed at me, is he?”

“He is. Said, he better not see your face or he’ll claw them off.” Harry laughed nervously. “I’ll ask Uncle if you can join our regular training sessions, too. Is it okay if I mention your firebird problems with him?”

“Anything that can help you. I don’t know why but I feel like I could trust you.” Jordan said truthfully.

“That probably has to do something with his _Spark_.” Harry interjected.

“Hold on.” Stiles gesturing wildly with his hand to stop. “I’m not aware of this.”

“Haven’t you noticed? Supernatural are drawn to you.”

“Yeah, they either want to kill me and literally eat me. Which is so not cool. I like my skin and bones just where they are.”

Harry smirked.  “You are being of potent magic. And you have a massive amount of it. So much so that you are like a world of your own. Supernatural may feel that you are the human incarnate of Earth’s magic. They feel like they could rely on you.”

“Scott tried to claw me. With his claws. They are sharp as hell. And _tha_ t stupid Derek always like to push me around. And being big. And bad. And mean. And roar l’m the alpha.”

“But were you really going to die? Will they really kill you?” Harry ask pointedly.

Then Stiles realized, that no. These big bad wolves were vicious, fast and strong, and could kill him easily. But somehow he managed to survived and despite all the altercations he had with Derek and his ragtag pack, he always escapes alive. Even Peter Hale who ravaged Lydia like a piece of cheap meat, let him live and almost unharmed. He even offered him the bite. Stiles looked up to Harry with a mix of wonder and understanding. “No. Not unless they were ordered to do so. So this effect is exclusive to Sparks?”

“Gaia once protected the human race from his demonic brethren. If not, it must have come from the compassion you have to protect those you love and deemed worthy of your protection.” Harry said. _(This is in Reference of Marvel’s God, Goddess and Cosmic Entities, not from the Percy Jackson’s Mythology. I don’t want you to get confused between the two origins. Gaia in the Marvel universe is a benevolent goddess for the human race.)_

“I guess that’s a nice way to put it.” Stiles said.

 “Hold on. Aren’t you training with the Avengers?” Jordan asked.

“Sometimes. I mean Cap and Hawkeye are often there. But the others come and go. In fact, I bet Cap would be happy to have more sparring partners.”

“As long as I won’t be a bother to them.” Jordan said.

“You won’t be. I’m sure the team won’t mind.” Stiles said honestly. “But if they do I’ll find a way to train with you.”

Jordan smiled gratefully at him. “Okay. You have my number.”

“Meanwhile you can study about phoenix on the papers I gave you.”

“What papers?” Jordan asked. Harry pointed down. Jordan was startled upon seeing the papers that weren’t there seconds ago. It must be his training as a shield agent that gave him the strength to not throw it away and make the sign of the cross. “That was… surprising.”

“Now do you anymore questions?” Harry asked. Jordan shook his head. “Stiles and I have something to discuss. Could you please wait on the other room?”

“I understand. And thank you very much for helping me.” Jordan stood up and moved to back to the antique shop.

“After the fight with Chthon’s followers, the Sorcerer Supreme approached me. He had been asking who was able to stop the ley lines. I told him I knew who you were but I didn’t divulge your identity. Not until I was sure he wouldn’t hurt you in anyway.”

“Why would he hurt me? Isn’t he one of the good guys?” Stiles asked.

“It’s what your capable of. Touching the earth’s magical energy is never easy. Sacrifices are made to have that ability. Human sacrifices. That fact that you tamed it all on your own is a testament that you are above average Magic. Only a few being can do what you did. That makes you a threat to this world. And the Sorcerer supreme and his followers deals with those threats.” Harry explained.

“But I’m a good guy. I’m with the Avengers.” Stiles said, a bit panicky.

“I know. That’s why I ascertained his intentions. I even mentioned you were an aspiring superhero. When he heard that he became more relaxed. He just wanted to know if you could be trusted.  From what I could tell his intentions are good. He asked if he could meet you. I said I’ll ask you first. So what do you say Stiles?”

Stiles crossed his hands, finger tapping on his forearms as he considered the matter. “He won’t try to kill me?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”

“Okay. Just tell me the time and place. Preferably, during the weekends. I’ve got a lot going on at school this month. I’ll send you my sched for the month so you could check.” Stiles c rumbled, fishing out his phone from his pocket and checking his events. Then he remembered the events in his calendar. Stiles stood up and begun pacing “Oh fuck, Independence Day is coming this week and I haven’t done my stock check. I promised a lot of things to bake. And I haven’t started on the design of Steve’s cake. I got to check that. It’s supposed to be a surprise. Man, I gotta go.”

Stiles stopped pacing and hopefully. “Okay. I’ll text you whatever me and the Sorcerer Supreme agreed upon. Don’t forget to send me your calendar.”

Stiles fist pumped a, ‘Yes!’. “That’ll be so good man. Thanks. I’ll see you.” Stiles pulled Harry in a quick, one-arm hug and jog to the shop and fetched Jordan. Jordan had to shout his goodbye because Stiles was dragging him hurried out of the shop.


	25. Shining Brighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a lot to keep surprises a surprise from a Super Soldier but it's worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I might have overestimated my writing capabilities and underestimated my addiction of Marvel Future Fight. I did not meet my timeline. I wasn't able to finish this story by the end of year 2017. Sorry about that. I did not intend to write this chapter. Like non of this was planned but god, it just keeps popping in my head, like it fucking makes sense that it had to be written. Like I'm not writing the Story anymore, It's just unfolding right in front of me. As always, unbetad and all mistakes are mine. I appreciate every single correction. Hope you enjoy it.

It took a lot of effort. But it seemed the payoff was worthy. The sky was lit with red, blue and white twinkling orbs of light that resembled his shield. It was lazily rotating like a giant luminescent Ferris wheel. Unlike the other fireworks, it didn’t fade the next second. Instead, it stayed illuminating the sky for several minutes. It would still be there until Stiles dismiss it or he runs out of magic. The look of surprise on Steve’s face, the way his eyes sparkled with wonder, tracing the otherworldly spectacle. It pierced a warm satisfaction deep in Stiles’ heart.

“I couldn’t move the stars to draw your shield in the sky. They aren’t mine to command. So I made my own. I hope you like it.” Stiles said. Steve turned to face him, amazed at the spectacle he was witnessing.

“They’re stars?” Steve asked, incredulously and he looked back at them. His eyes were glinting with startlight. 

“Technically a magical glinting orb of light but yeah… stars.” Stiles answered.

The spell was simple enough. But it wasn’t made for a show or serve as party lights. It was intended to ward off evil, and burn them if they come close. It would purify the land of bad aura and spirits. People who were under its light were cleansed of evil thoughts and influences. It was a powerful purifying spell and it was quickly burning through Stiles’ magic. Stiles didn’t mind though. He had more than enough to make it through the night. The view it makes is spectacular and by the way Steve was watching it, it was more than worth it.

The light inside the room started to dim. Stiles saw Jackson, Clint, Bruce and Thor wheeling in his surprise. It took a more than a day to make. He even had to send a magical clone to school so he can have enough time to prepare. He wanted to make it by himself, all effort from him and no one else.

Stiles ceased the spell. The magical sight in the sky begun to fade. Still, Steve kept looking at it, savoring its last moments.

Stiles magically lit the candles on his surprise and right on cue, the singing started. Steve was startled out his reverie. He turned around and found a lot of people singing him a happy birthday. In the middle of it was a two feet wide cake that was molded to look like his shield, with some art materials made of pastry littered artistically around it.

Steve smiled widely, caught surprised. He thanked everyone before blowing the cake.

“Is this the reason why you were avoiding me the past few days?” Steve asked, knowingly. Stiles nodded almost shyly. “This is so much Stiles. I appreciate it but you didn’t have to. You know I wouldn’t might if you simply greet me.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his head as looked up, smiling guilty at Steve. “I’m aware of that but I couldn’t help it.”

“Stiles like to make it big or go home. He even got Lydia a flat screen TV on his birthday.” Jackson interjected.

“Lydia?” Steve asked.

“My ex-girlfriend who was his previous crush.” Jackson said. “He likes to give all he got to people who are special to him.”

Stiles froze in horror. _WTF, Jackson!_

Jackson also froze mid eating his sweets, realizing what he just said. A giant ‘ _fuck I’m so sorry’_ was written all over the place.  He slowly turned to Stiles in horror as well. The others, who were near them and heard the conversation, got silent as well as they waited in bathed breath for Steve’s reaction.

 Steve turned to Stiles, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. Stiles wanted to bolt out of chair and bury himself 6 feet under. He didn’t know how he would take Steve’s reaction. “I guess I’m lucky to have you as my friend.”

Stiles nearly melted on his seat. He couldn’t believe Steve wouldn’t get that massive clue. Everyone else shook their head disappointedly. Stiles laughed weakly. Stiles couldn’t decide if this was a torture or mercy. _Damn it, this man is going to give me heart attack._

After sometime, everybody was dancing. And for some reason, Steve and Stiles were the only ones left sitting together. Stiles would love to dance with Steve. But he was a little hesitant especially with how the songs were somehow for couples and outright romantic. His hand couldn’t stay still as he gathered his courage to ask Steve for a dance.

But before he could muster half the courage to ask Steve, Steve spoke. “I’ve never danced with someone before. I don’t even know how to.” He said, a drink in his hand. Stiles turned his full attention on Steve. They were sitting close on the couch and despite the loud music he could hear the sad tone on Steve’s voice. “I promised a girl that I’d take her to the dance but I wasn’t able to.” Steve shook his head, a sad smile marring his good disposition. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Stiles took a deep breath then he stood up and offered his hand. Steve looked at him in surprise. “May I?” Stiles asked. 

“Stiles. I- I wasn’t trying to make you dance with me.” Steve said.

“I’m aware of that. But I wanted to. I know I’m not someone especial. But if you wanted to, let’s make memories together.” Stiles offered with an encouraging smile on his lips.

Steve looked from his face down to his hand. Something crossed his eyes, something determined and something a little hopeful. And when he looked back up at Stiles, his eyes were shining brighter than they did before. Steve took his hand and Stiles helped the man to stand up and pulled him excitedly to the dance floor.

Stile directed Steve on where to put his hands and Steve did as he was told. And when Stiles pulled them closer together, it almost took his breath away. The gentle pressure on his hips, the strong board shoulder on his hands. He could feel Steve’s warmth. It was almost too much. And when Steve looked at him with his clear azure eyes, he knew he was a goner. He never knew that it was possible to be pulled in this sort of gravity. It was like the very stars themselves were pulling at him and he fell effortlessly.

“Now, what?” Steve asked, almost with a strangled breathy whisper.

Stiles breathes deeply and said breathlessly, “We sway.”

Stiles tried to lead both of them as best as he could but despite his best efforts, they stumbled and stepped on each other. It even made Steve cuss which was the first time Stiles ever heard him. And through it all, they laughed at each other’s mistake.

It took a few minutes before Steve could master the simple waltz steps which was amazing. Stiles was pretty impressed.

“I still haven’t giving you my present.” Stiles said.

Steve’s brow furrowed, “I thought it was the fireworks.”

“Well I’ve got another.” Stiles pulled Steve away from the dance floor. Stiles pointed on a spot the suddenly a meter tall and wide gift box appeared. “Go on. Open it.”

Steve politely unwrapped the box. Inside it were art materials, as many as it was varied. Everything that an artist could ever want and imagine and some more. Steve took a pencil. It was one of the highest quality.  He might have spent all the money his Uncle gave for that one mission with the Demon infection incident.

“It’s also enchanted to never fade or so long as the magic last. It should also be fire proof and water proof.” Stiles said.

“Thank you.” Steve said with a grateful smile. Stiles couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction.

 

 

***

 

 

Few hours later when they were headed back to their room, Jackson elbowed Stiles. “So you and Steve are finally moving.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“You two were dancing. Together.”

“Of course we were dancing. Everyone was all partner up. I got no choice….” Jackson raised a perfectly curved eye brow at Stiles. And Stiles finally got it. “Oh. That was intentional.”

“So… what’s the status?” Jackson said.

“The same? I mean it was just a friendly dance? Nothing romantic ever happened. Well except it was his first dance?” Stiles admitted honestly because that was what really happened. “By the way, who’s idea was it?”

“Clint’s.” Jackson said. He was slight flushed when he said the name.

Stiles huffed in surprised. Something was in deed developing between the two. And if he recalled it right, Clint had asked Jackson to dance and werewolf grumbled something about castrating the archer if he so much as step on his toes but he accepted willingly. “Killing two birds with the same stone.”

“What did you say?” Jackson asked grumpily.

“Nothing.” Stiles said. He was not ready to confront this situation. He suffered months with Scott’s lovesick obsession with Allison. He wanted to enjoy this downtime from the love department as long as possible and if those two were playing mutual deniability, the Stiles was more than happy to play along.

 

 

 

When Stiles was ready for bed he started a skype session with his dad. He’d been postponing this session for weeks and now was the perfect time to finally start one.

“Hey kiddo. Is there a problem?”

Stiles shook his head. “Everything’s good dad. I just wanted to great you a “Happy Independence Day.”

His dad smiled and greeted him back. “Your hair’s longer now.”

long, Stiles only realized he hadn’t been buzzing it, having forgotten his electric razor at home the first week and then he had been very busy with school and training. He hardly had time to explore New York or have fun at all.  

Stiles felt guilty that he had completely forgotten it. He’d started shaving his hair ever since that day when her mother’s hair had begun to fall, a side effect from her cancer therapy.

“Your mom would love to ruffle it.” The Sheriff said. Stiles reached for his hair and lightly brush it back feeling the short nut soft strands of hair. His mom always did love to ruffle it wildly instead of combing it back to perfection like other mothers.

“She did, didn’t she?” Stiles said, nostalgia heavy on his voice.

His dad said something about after office celebration with the other officers. Stiles roasted his ass on how much bad food he had been eating. Stiles limited him to a serving of bad cholesterol and a can of beer but nothing else. His dad looked pissed.

“How did you even know? It’s Tara, isn’t it?” His dad asked exasperatedly.

“I’m not revealing my sources dad.” Stiles said.

“Like how there’s always vegetables on the table?” His dad said. Stiles had asked Erica and Boyd to help watch over his dad’s diet. He just didn’t expect Erica to be anal on it. Nor just how much Boyd could care for someone. It was surprising that they volunteer to make healthy food for his dad but nonetheless it was a welcome surprise.

“May be there are healthcare fairies that deliver healthy foods to those that need them?” Stiles said, shrugging nonchalantly.

His dad looked at him unimpressed. “My break is over kiddo. I gotta go. I love you. Keep behaving. Phil keeps me updated every week.”

Stiles laughed nervously. His uncle had been omitting a lot of facts from his dad. And he bet it would bite his ass hard in the future. “Oh you know me pop, like an angel.” His dad snorted. “I love you too. Make healthy diet choices or I’ll sic my health care fairies on you.”

His dad gave him a deadpan look before he ended the chat. Just he wait until Erica made her rounds, he’ll be in for a treat. That girl had blackmail pretty much most of the diner in town last week. He’ll be having the lowest blow that Stiles couldn’t even deal on him if he so much as touched the food he is not supposed to eat.

 


End file.
